Mystique Soldier Ch.22 (Patreon)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Chapter 22- Meetings and Revelations

AN: Beta'd by Sedition!

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Harry didn't need any special skill to sense the barely governed tenseness in the air, shrouding the room in a dense embrace; the thick aura of suspicion, along with a touch of hostility, all directed at the two old men—one comically shorter than the other by half a foot—standing behind the Headmaster’s desk; looking for all intents and purposes like evil masterminds that had gravely wronged the present party but insisted on acting clueless.

The volatility in the air was thick enough that one could butter up their bread with it. Even the normally chattering portraits were unusually quiet.

“Or I can go back to using Mr. Dursley if you want,” And Ares simply battered at this wall of hostility with pure bluntness. “Though I’ve been informed…of…its…”

He trailed off, eyes shifting to the figure of his mother—now standing beside Harry—her hand, which had been in the midst of sneaking over his shoulder, stilling completely as she suddenly whirled to face the old man, projecting a deep desire of tearing him a new orifice.

“…Or not.” Ares smiled disarmingly, hands slightly raised in surrender. “Completely your choice.”

Unfortunately, the man was trying a little too hard to seem like a harmless senior citizen.

A rather difficult thing to do when you’re known throughout the world for blundering around in a massive suit of red armor, killing people as easily as blowing smoke. Steve Rogers did not earn his title as the God of War by being a peace loving Buddha after all. And the Potter couple knew it all too well, having deeply researched the man after Harry informed them of their dealings.

Honestly, Harry was almost anticipating a fight to break out now, and the sheer thought sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine. In the last three months, he’d grown by an absurd level, surpassing his past self by a laughably high contrast…the chance to test out his new limits in a relatively safe environment—against ancient beings who’d survived for such a long time—would be all too welcome right now.

“Well…” Steve cleared his throat, looking visibly discomforted by the hostile silence. Especially the two sets of Potter eyes that stared at the old men like they were common thugs here to rob the family blind at knife-point.

Harry didn’t care. His eyes were rather distracted by the numbers floating above Ares’ head, a smile of satisfaction threatening to dominate his face as he realized something worth celebrating.

‘I’ve surpassed Ares.’

Steve Rogers (Ares)

Age: 89

Race: Human

Level: 42

Health: 450/450

Stamina: 410/410

Stats

Strength: 41

Speed: 41

Dexterity: 45

Vitality: 43

Endurance: 40

Intelligence: 42

Wisdom: 43

Not only had he surpassed Ares, he’d done so by a vast mile. Being almost thrice as fast and twice as strong, Harry’s confidence in his ability to crush the old man—widely recognized as the most fearsome enemy by Hydra—stood incredibly firm right now.

And all without the use of magic.

Though this was, of course, discounting the gray-haired man’s equipment—the main source of his legendary title—including a sword capable of cutting through magic.

‘I simply haven’t seen him enough in his battle armor to form any solid conclusions.’

That could pose a problem surely. The armor must give him tons of bonus stats. Harry had no doubt he’d get a terrible twinge of jealousy if he observed the man in his battle armor.

After all, there had to be a reason for the abject fear and awe the man inspired amongst all. But even then, Harry suspected Captain Ares did not stand anywhere near the top of this world.

Not when beings like Dumbledore still roamed the planet.

That did not take away from Harry’s achievement of course. If Ares could survive upon this world for 89 years, live through an entire war while fighting alongside Captain America, then there was no reason that Harry wouldn’t survive for at least another year or two.

‘And that should be enough for me to bridge the gap to the truly powerful.’

Stifling a hum of satisfaction, Harry ignored the four figures that were engaged in the contest of out-staring each other, his eyes scanning the room, absently dismissing the system message of a new Dungeon’s discovery—for now.

The Headmistress’s office was shaped like a spherical dome, its curved walls giving him a sense of standing inside an enlarged snitch that had a flat base and top.

He had a feeling that the room used to be much messier before the appointment of their current headmistress.

There were five of them currently present in the office. Three Potters—standing on the other side of the desk—and the two senior citizens, directly opposite them.

James had his arms folded, his wand—still clutched in his hand—was conveniently hidden behind the back of his arm, ready to cast at once as he stared down the two men.

Lily, on the other hand, had finally succeeded in wrapping an arm behind Harry’s back—slowly and carefully—giving him a reassuring smile that he didn’t really need.

Not that he minded; the comforting warmth of her arm gave him a foreign sense of protection unlike anything he’d experienced before.

It helped that he could feel the softness of her heavy breasts pressing up against his side. Just the sheer feeling of them squeezed up against his chest completely surpassed the pleasure he’d derived from all the snogging and fondling he’d done to his two girl-friends throughout the month.

Though he was a little surprised when he activated his mutation—almost an instinct now—hoping to discover at least a little desire in her…after all, it would be all too easy to fan the flames of existing desire than creating new ones through Pheromones…

Yet, as his ability focused, he realized that he couldn’t feel the pheromones usually released from a person’s skin on Lily…

Though he did manage to glean a muted sense of need and contentment wafting from her body when she succeeded in enveloping him in her arm.

It didn’t take long for Harry to come upon a firm conclusion.

‘Occlumency.’

Harry frowned. ‘It must be capable of controlling the pheromone secretion…I will most likely need to release my entire batch of sexual pheromones to pierce through the mental shield.’

At Level 15, his mutation enabled him to influence a being’s sexual reactions by sending a wave of pheromones through whatever part of the body they typically secreted it. For humans, the pheromones—he’d observed—mostly came from sweat, spit, and skin, while also being concentrated around the head.

‘Occlumency shouldn’t be capable of stopping one’s body from feeling the rising arousal’, Harry theorized…’but it can certainly stop the said person from acting upon it.’

After all, it is your mind that guides your action most of the time. And Occlumency created an impenetrable shield over it that could stop his efforts short.

Though he didn’t blame Lily for it.

Had he not been trained to approach most situations calmly, he would be needing Occlumency’s assistance as well.

It truly was a surprise to see Ares’ uninvited figure present in the castle, something he wouldn’t have dreamt in his wildest dreams.

The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D in Hogwarts? It was almost like his two different worlds had clashed together, the past coming forth to meet the present…

And Harry had yet to decide how he felt about it.

“Harry…” Ares started yet again, trying to cut through the thick tenseness with a forced cheer. “It really was a pleasant surprise to hear from you again.”

“Ares.” Harry finally addressed his former superior, giving a brief nod as his eyes scanned the short man up and down. “I expected a letter.”

A ghost of a smile flickered over the man’s face. “That was my first intention as well. But the recent meetings with Mr. Dumbledore here convinced me that our subject today will need a more…personal briefing.”

He felt Lily’s arms tighten around him, her glare intensifying substantially, now directed from Dumbledore to Ares.

“And what, exactly, is this subject that dragged you to a different continent?” Lily’s words cut through the room like the sharpest of blades.

Harry stifled a chuckle as Ares’ eyes flickered to her in unease. “It is a subject pertaining to his past…”

The eyes shifted back at him. “I assume you’ve informed them of your contract with us?”

Harry raised a brow. “I have indeed.”

“Well…” Ares took a deep breath, giving a brief glance to the Minister, a silent plea in his gaze.

Dumbledore chuckled. “I believe my work here is almost done. This next part is yours. As I promised you, should you manage to convince all the parties involved, you may proceed with your mission.”

Then the old wizard bowed, curtseying gracefully. “Please…the stage is yours.”

With that, the Minister backed away, taking the only chair available behind the Headmistress's desk.

With a sigh, the shorter man picked up a sage-green file—hidden beneath a plethora of devices cluttering the desk—and addressed Harry.

“This file here contains all the current missions available for you as of now.” Ares announced with no further preamble, pushing the file to slide across the desk. “The reason for my personal visit pertains to the last one; a level seven mission, highly sensitive. The people aware of its existence can be counted with two hands.”

Harry didn’t move to pick up the file.

“I shouldn’t have the authority to open this then.” He frowned. “I’m not a level seven agent.”

“You will be, if you accept.” Ares replied. “It comes with the job.”

Harry nodded slowly, not giving away his thoughts. ‘Now this is definitely surprising.’

A level 7 S.H.I.E.L.D agent had an incredibly high level of authority, not only within the agency, but even in the outer world. To place such power in the hands of someone whose loyalty was not secured seemed the epitome of foolishness.

Harry knew the current Director of S.H.I.E.L.D was anything but foolish.

‘They must be truly out of options….or it is a trap.’

Perhaps Harry did not hide his feelings as well as he thought, for Ares leaned down on the desk heavily, letting Harry see just the slightest bit of desperation hidden beneath the depths of those blue eyes. “You know I do not like handing you missions like these, Harry. But I simply do not have any other choice right now, you’re the very best there is. Widow is the only one who comes close to your level of expertise in fields like these. Without you, this mission will gain an unnecessarily higher level of difficulty that might just cost me good, loyal agents.”

Harry's suspicions were already drowned out under a new emotion, his brows rising up on their own accord. “Romanoff will be present as well?”

Ares must’ve misunderstood the reason behind his sudden interest, for the nod he gave was grave and cautious. “Two of our best will accompany you, should you accept. We aren’t dealing with normal humans Harry, but beings capable of fighting Super Soldiers. Imagine an army of Romanoffs, and you’ll understand exactly why I’m so concerned. Had it not been damaging for our mission’s objectives, I would’ve personally accompanied the two. As it is, you are the best agent for this task that S.H.I.E.L.D has access to.”

Accept Quest [A Gang of Widows]? Y/N

• Accompany your team to Budapest ( )
• ??? ( )
• ??? ( )
• ??? ( )
• ??? ( )
• ??? ( )

Rewards:

• 1500 XP
• ???
• ???
• ???
• ???
• ???

Harry hummed in forced unconcern, not willing to show the inner him that was jumping in joy.

James however, had no such limitations as he dragged the room’s attention onto himself with an ugly snort. “Your best option, Mr. Ares, is an eleven year old wizard who has just started attending Hogwarts?”

He must’ve felt Harry’s glare for he glanced to the side with a quick ‘sorry!’.

Ares raised an eyebrow, seeming to stare down the much taller man. “You must not know him well enough if you really think that’s all he is, Mr. Potter.”

Harry ignored the duo, sniping the file off of the table as he was released from Lily’s iron hold—who thundered forth beside James to interrogate the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D..

He needed to know exactly what made the usually infallible man so desperate before he accepted the quest.

Though if he could confirm its validity…he was already certain that his decision would be positive. The idea of going on a mission to fight beings above normal humans seemed almost entirely tailor made for him…while Natasha’s presence would give his mutation a chance to progress as well.

The only reason it didn’t add to his suspicions of this whole thing being a trap was the presence of the second being, most likely Barton—who would be there to ruin some quality experimentation time.

‘Well…maybe that second person is Melinda or Maria…or perhaps even Kara!’

That’ll give him twice the targets to have fun with!

Feeling his elation renewed, Harry quickly opened the file, skipping past all the minor missions and navigating directly to the relevant one.

It was a shame his expectations were disappointed by the very front page of the mission…

‘Barton it is then.’ He grunted. ‘Still…better than nothing.’

Just the sheer chance to test his skills against beings other than teenage wizards was a welcome one.

Thus, recovering some of that lost eagerness, Harry Potter dove into the mission’s briefings, uncaring of the rising voices of his parents interrogating his superior.

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An hour later…

“Do you genuinely think we will just let you take him away so easily?” Lily’s quiet fury—colder than ice & sharper than a jagged rock—brought the temperature of the room down on its lonesome. “Should Harry agree, you better believe we’re accompanying him across the continent.”

“That is…agreeable Mrs. Potter. But please understand you cannot take part in this mission anymore than a civilian can.”

“And how are you any different from this Hydra then?” James’ skeptical voice rang in the office next. “They use child soldiers, you use child soldiers. If one squints enough, you would look like two sides of the same coin.”

The arguments of the adults had yet to end, though there was food to be had and drinks to cool them down; an elf being kind enough to arrange a large serving of apple pie, along with an assortment of dishes that Harry had no interest in touching.

He himself sat staring at the arguing adults while nibbling on some biscuits, feet dangling above a high conjured chair—courtesy of the Minister, though Harry suspected he purposely made it so high—as he enjoyed the show.

It had been late in the evening by the time he'd finished with the file. The mission seemed relatively simple from the eyes of someone who’d done much more complicated things in much more convoluted ways. Reaching Budapest without the local government’s knowledge was probably the truly troublesome part of this mission, and Harry had nothing to do with it.

Sure, for his past self, he would judge this mission’s threat to be quite considerable. But for the current him, he’d be surprised if he struggled for his life at any point in the mission.

Though the idea of there being multiple Black Widows did brew a splash of uncertainty within him. Natasha Romanoff was a name that enjoyed almost equal amounts of fame as Ares and Hawkeye. Just a few months after her arrival in S.H.I.E.L.D., her name was joined with the other two enemies in the short list of people every Hydra agent was ordered to avoid. Including Harry.

The idea that there might be more like her…

…Actually excited him a little.

He’d been beginning to fear that he’d already seen the worst this world could throw at him, wondering if all his preparation for the future might be useless and unneeded after all. But this revelation proved that there was a lot he’d yet to see and experience.

This was a large and mysterious world, and Harry had barely started upon his journey of carving himself a piece of it.

Up ahead behind the desk, Ares let loose a half-defeated sigh. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps we really aren’t as different as we like to pretend we are. But there is one thing here that separates us from them, Mr. Potter, and it is your son’s ability to reject the mission if he so wishes. Should he do so, there would be nothing for me to do here but leave.”

Then he spread his arms, head bowing slightly. “I will not lie; before meeting with the Minister, I’d fully expected Harry to reject the mission out of hand. It simply doesn’t seem worth it for him, and my opinion of Harry has always been inspired by his utterly mercenary heart. He has a new life now; family, friends, school, and most of all; freedom and security. And I understand how my presence might seem like someone here to steal them away from him.”

Then the man raised his chin, turning his head to peer at him with grave solemnity. “But I assure you, Harry, I wouldn't be here had you not been our very last option. Not just because of your prior training and general competence, but also due to this mission being far too sensitive to drag in any new member. A single leak of information could yield results as grim as the one in Vanchat’s Gulag, a mission you know all too well about. Call me a fool, but I trust you far more than a battalion of trained Aurors that I’ve recently been offered…no offense intended, Albus.”

“None taken.” Beside him, the Minister patted his arm. “Though I’m sure we’re all curious to hear from Mr. Potter himself. The smaller one, I mean.”

Four sets of eyes turned to him slowly.

Harry cared not, eyes pinned upon Ares, scanning the man’s supposed moment of weakness for any signs of deceptions.

He found none.

Either way, he already knew his answer, having had more than enough time to sort through the shower of information. Yet, there were things that made him feel blind, and he’d be foolish to put his trust in anything that he did not understand completely—aside from his system, of course. He doubted there was any being capable of understanding it save for its creator.

Thus, his mind quickly worked through some of the doubts bubbling within his heart, intending to get all the answers. “Before that, I need to know…you keep alluding to your meetings with the Minister. Am I to understand that he does have an interest in sending me to America?”

The Minister coughed lightly, peering down at him, bright blue eyes staring from above his half-moon spectacles with a bemused smile. “You might find the Minister standing right here, Mr. Potter.”

Harry shot him an irritated look. “I was asking Steve.”

The old man chuckled, nodding sagely. “Ahh, but so you did. It would be quite wrong of me to answer in his stead then. I suppose I must simply sit here pretending to be a mannequin while you two discuss my humble personage.”

“Well…I won’t say America specifically,” Ares replied unprompted, ignoring the older man’s ramblings. “But he certainly does not wish to stop you from achieving, what he believes, is your true potential.”

Rogers glanced at the Minister, but Harry doubted he got anything out of the benignly calm façade the warlock wore—eyes hiding knowledge of untold depths.

“And if it means sending you to America,” The short man continued, eyes shifting back to Harry. “He will do his best to meet your needs.”

Harry nodded slowly, new possibilities brewing in his mind.

‘The Minister can’t have anything to do with Hydra, that much was certain the last time. There has to be another reason for his interest in me.’

His eyes scanned the Minister carefully, taking in the twinkling eyes, the long, gray beard, the pale white flowing robe falling past his feet…

‘Perhaps I can make use of this interest…’

"If I am to do this,” Harry started cautiously. “I will need some special permissions."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Perhaps you do, perhaps you do not. I can only decide once I hear your demands. So ask away, dear boy.”

Harry did not like this man. He truly hoped once he became the epitome of Sage, his future self wouldn’t shove his ‘wisdom’ into others' faces in the most annoying of ways.

"Permission to use magic outside the halls of Hogwarts." He started before the flamboyant man could change his mind.

"Naturally."

"Better yet, I want whatever trace is on me to be removed.” Harry rectified.

Zabini had brought the information to his attention in one of their study sessions, in the midst of whining about not being able to use magic in Italy. The explanation was more than alarming enough for Harry to run his own thorough research into the subject.

Apparently a non-adult wizard did not have the permission to use magic outside of Hogwarts…something he knew he would never follow, even if it meant risking expulsion.

Though Ron’s confused inquiry as to ‘how were the twins able to use magic in their home then’ gave him hope. Also the fact that he and the midget had used plenty of spells before coming to Hogwarts.

Whatever piece of magic this was, it wasn’t unbeatable or omnipotent.

But while he’d certainly imagined a much worse situation in his mind at first, the reality was still worrying enough for him to proceed…cautiously.

Now however, he had the chance to shove the entire problem straight to oblivion.

The Minister hummed, eyes not leaving Harry for a single second. It was suspicious enough for Harry to quickly take a plunge into Occlumency just to check if the man was reading his mind, having somehow beaten the Gamer’s Mind.

He wasn’t.

“The trace, Mr. Potter, is on your wand.” The Minister finally replied. “It will naturally dissolve once you become of age. Though I can certainly see why you would wish for…yes, very well. I think it is a reasonable request. What else?”

Harry’s brain worked in overdrive, quickly coming up with a list of things only the Minister of Magic could grant him.

“Permission to learn and use Apparition whenever I want."

“Another reasonable request. I shall let your Headmistress know that you and Lily will be using the castle grounds for practice purposes. Anything else?”

Harry tilted his head. ‘How much can I push him?’

"Permission to use Unforgivables."

The smile dropped. Something changed in his eyes, the mischievous twinge disappearing behind something far graver. For a long moment Dumbledore held his eyes, and Harry was reminded he was facing a being that out-leveled everyone in this room by a very large margin.

Power, unlike any, swirled around him with an almost visible aura. He could see his parents stiffen up, wands now at ready, looking about to start casting any second now…

Then the spell broke, and the Minister nodded slowly. “I’ve been made aware of your past, and do not hold you responsible for their blatant usage. But you must understand, Mr. Potter…the Unforgivables are named such because they are, in fact, crimes that cannot be forgiven. My understanding will not be shared by the rest of the population, so be very careful on how you use them.”

Stunned, Harry kept quiet for a long second. ‘He actually said yes?’

After that display of power?

Why?

“Of course.” Harry gave a belated reply, the image of the powerful warlock still on his mind, intermixing with the confusion of his acceptance.

“I shall personally teach you how to Apparate.” The Minister suddenly announced. “Hmm…how would you say a week before your winter holidays? I do need to make some time on my schedule.”

“That…will not be needed, I’m sure.” Harry replied slowly. “My parents are more than capa—”

“Ahh, but you misunderstood me, Mr. Potter.” The Minister stared at him with the same, all-knowing eyes. “It is not an offer, but a requirement for the permissions you’ve requested. Two hours, from weekend-next, on the castle grounds. You’re brilliant enough that I doubt you’d need more than a week to learn it, just enough time for your vacations to begin. I shall unravel a part of Hogwarts wards to accommodate us. Wait for my letter. Good day to all.”

With that he turned around, a hand extending out to Steve, who turned to him one last time.

“Thank you, Harry.”

Then they disappeared away into the softest crack of air.

Only then did Harry realize the Minister hadn’t even let him give the final ‘Yes’ to the mission.

Quest [A Gang of Widows] in Progress!

• Accompany Romanoff and Barton to Budapest ( )
• Help them return alive ( )
• Help them avoid capture ( )
• Secure Red Dust Package ( )
• Save all the Widows you encounter ( )
• ??? ( )

Rewards:

• 1500 XP
• 2500 Xp
• 2500 Xp
• 3000 Xp
• 4000 XP
• ???

Infuriating bastard.

"Well then..." James clapped his hands, looking mildly disturbed. "A family trip to America...who would've thought."

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The month of December brought a different kind of magic to Hogwarts; the magic of Winter. One morning they woke up to find the entire castle covered beneath a thick sheet of snow that glittered like the most beautiful white pearls.

The lake was frozen solid—a few senior muggleborns transfigured themselves a pair of ice skates to show off their skills—while the corridors of the castle grew teeth-clattering cold, stinging gusts of wind constantly rattling the windows like invisible ghosts.

It had all the signs of making for a pretty miserable experience, yet the people of Hogwarts were far from depressed.

The mood of levity and celebration permeated the air as the students began to count down the time for the holidays to begin. Even the teachers grew lax and lenient, and all the rubies, diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds in the House point hourglasses saw a substantial increase each passing day.

The Great Hall however, had to be the thing that coalesced all the joy of Hogwarts in one room.

For a stunning sight greeted Harry and his group on one random sunrise: Swathes of holly and mistletoe hanging around the walls like beautiful garlands, with twelve Christmas trees spread along the Hall's borders—some sparkling with glittering icicles, some glowing under the warm flames of hundreds of candles, and all sporting twinkling golden baubles that sat on their leaves like humongous water droplets…

The Great Hall had never looked more beautiful to Harry than it did then.

Honestly, he hadn't expected Christmas to be so widely popular in the Wizarding World. However, just a single minor inquiry revealed that Christianity was the most recognized religion amongst wizards and witches. While most did not believe in the existence of God, they still adapted into it, normalizing the religion into modern society to obscure themselves amongst muggles.

It also conveniently tied in with Yuletide and Winter Solstice, both of which were actively celebrated around the Wizarding Globe. Christmas simply gave a readymade excuse for them to let loose without fearing the Statue of Secrecy.

Harry himself had never celebrated either of these festivals, not that he actually held any special status for any of them. Nor—as it would seem—was he about to get the chance to do so this time...

He simply had no time to celebrate. Yet.

For he knew what was coming.

The days after the meeting's conclusion saw Harry throwing himself at the dungeons with a renewed motivation to progress.

He knew he had already surpassed the limits of a normal human. Knew even the Winter Soldier won't be able to match him physically now.

Yet, it wasn't enough for him.

Harry wanted to be the very best version of himself that he could be for this mission. He wanted to feel his progress, see for himself how far he'd come, experience the rush of power...the stronger the better.

He didn't want to scrap through by the skin of his teeth yet again. Whatever the odds may be, whatever challenges may come, and whatever unexpected surprise might pop up in his return to America...Harry wanted to crush through them without the slightest hint of struggle.

When he stepped back into America—a country he'd left fearing for his survival—he wished to be a completely new person from what he’d been mere three months ago. He wanted to be someone who'd come with a gun to a knife-fight.

And he had just enough time to ensure that it happens.

Truly, the reveal of a new dungeon could not have come at a more opportune moment.

For he soon hit a hard stall in the fourth level of Hufflepuff Dungeon.

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Harry's breath was harsh upon his face as he sprinted down the first Dungeon floor of the fourth level, dodging and weaving through a rain of spells.

Over fifteen minutes and counting, and Harry was yet to whittle down his opponents’ ranks below 20.

The increase in competence was incredibly drastic from level 3 to 4, especially compared to the lower levels.

It wasn’t simply the increase in their spell repertoire and efficient casting, it was also the visible signs of strategy as they utilized their numbers to cover all of his fronts.

More than that, they were adaptable.

The first few enemies that he'd picked off were through his gun. The moment they'd materialized in front of him, his pistol had claimed a couple of popped heads.

But the rest grew wary and cautious, quickly adjusting to the situation. And now any time they saw a movement from his pistol, a trio of students would break out and position themselves in the front; Protego shields popping up as a wall of blue that effortlessly blocked the bullets.

It was in this situation that he realized the limitations of guns in a magical fight. While the bullets might travel faster than sound, they cannot take down a fully prepared wizard. Magic was simply too strong for that. Sure, he'd already experienced such against Snape and his parents, but seeing a bunch of fake 14 year olds replicating it—even if by making use of their superior numbers—was irritating.

He had to put extra effort to avoid telegraphing his aim, just to catch another couple of heads off-guard, taking away his already limited chances to a stumbling crawl.

Most of the time he was forced into a constant run as he ducked, dived, and flickered his way through the avalanche of spells—for some reason these bastards knew how to transfigure and conjure plants—with inhuman acrobatics and flexibility, not giving him any time whatsoever to think of aiming his weapons, let alone actually using them.

The counter attacking chances that he did receive were few and far in between, and took a substantial amount of his focus in preparing a subtle enough attack of spells and bullets that would pass through the wall of Protegos.

'Hawkeye would've been truly useful here.'

Still, he continued on his grinding; slipping past spells—sometimes even forced to use body flickers—and taking any chance to deliver sure-killing attacks to pick them off one by one.

It took well over two hours of constant grinding to finally clear the first round of this new Dungeon level, losing just about half of his stamina as a result.

Worse yet, he hadn't managed to come out unscathed this time, having his skin lacerated in places by thorny vines and sharp blade-like leaves that tried to entangle him in their jaws.

The pain was bearable, his Lvl 6 resistance enabling him to cope with seemingly no problems…but it was what these injuries symbolized that made him annoyed.

In all his time clearing dungeons, rarely had Harry ever been injured, and never to this degree. But if things continued the way they were now, his first death in the dungeon might quickly come to greet him…

'Never.' Harry scowled, on his knees and taking deep gulps of breath.

It seems it was time to focus on the Gryffindor Dungeon. He will come back here when he grows stronger still.

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Of course, while his life might have been on the verge of entering a new phase, the rest of Hogwarts went about their lives, uncaring.

Though quite a few did take interest when news about the Potters being granted early leave for an extended holiday first surfaced—any news surrounding the mysterious Harry Potter had the potential to become the newest hot topic in Hogwarts—but the ones who truly cared were his friends and…study group members that Harry didn’t quite know what to make of.

Still, their own plans and vacations took a greater priority in their minds, and Harry was thankfully saved from giving a blunt response to knock it off. He was sure that would’ve upset some kids, and his Sagely self seemed to agree.

Their plan for the eventual trip to America was soon revealed to his siblings. It just so happened that he was present when Lily briefed them about it.

It had been in one of their daily family meetings that took place in Lily’s quarters. Most of the days they simply ate and chatted about nothing and everything. Sometimes Harry and Rose would become judges for Lily’s early ventures into cooking, while sometimes Lily and Rose would sit quietly and lay witness to the greatness of his Lvl 38 cooking.

This time however, Harry knew at once that it wouldn’t be a usual day…for he was greeted by the figure of his elder sister. She sat quietly at the table, taking the chair directly opposite his usual seat, a glass of hot chocolate in her hands that she sipped occasionally.

Ever since the events that took place in the tent, Harry had noticed his victims going through subtle changes whenever he was around. Most ranged from simply minor signs of unstable nerves, including but not limited to; shifty eyes, shaky hands, and nervous stutters…while weirder ones included; Angelina’s rapid eye-fluttering and teeth-biting, Helen Dawlish’s constant winks and whistles, Tamsin Applebee’s unnaturally red cheeks worthy of her last name…

But the most noticeable—yet subtle—change had to be in Dorea.

Dorea Potter had always maintained a silence around him and Rose. But the silence had always been one of ‘I’m above you all, I don’t need to speak’. Now the silence still remained but the intent behind was what changed, giving the feeling more along the lines of ‘I’m terribly awkward and don’t know what to say’.

He was glad she didn’t hold any stupid grudge. Gladder still that she took his words to heart and stopped acting like a prime bitch.

But he didn’t quite know what to make of this new Dorea who gave a polite nod of greeting to him upon his entry. As the evening proceeded, she sat quietly and listened; first to Lily bringing them up to speed about their plans, then to Rose’s machine-like chatters that were usually enough to annoy even him.

When the evening ended and he bid the ladies a goodbye, Harry was surprised even more to see a hesitant little half-smile on her face as she nodded him a farewell.

Still, without Sage’s push to fill in the gaps, Harry couldn’t quite understand her sudden change and soon found himself dismissing it for something more important. Mainly; the Apparition lessons.

------------------------------------

Harry Potter peered up into the chilly morning through a passing window, watching the tiny crystalline flakes of snow gliding across the air.

'It is a fine morning to be out.'

The sun was hidden beyond a curtain of clouds, sucking away even the little heat that these cold halls were usually blessed with. For the general populace of Hogwarts, this was the perfect day to laze around and snore away in the comfort of their bed for another hour or two.

For Harry, it would’ve been the perfect day to explore the castle without the usual interference of the crowd. His cold resistance made the blistering morning feel like a comforting chill.

A shame he had places to be.

He moved on, his feet climbing up the steps to the Astronomy Tower—as was requested by the Minister—expertly avoiding some of the shifty ones.

It was a welcoming break from all the dungeon busting he'd been doing throughout the week. He feared another day of such and he'd qualify for being a basic robot that followed a single command. Even the midget quickly detected that something was off about him for the past couple of days.

But she'd also seemed to have developed a good instinct for when to rattle his ears off and when to keep her lips sealed. Probably assuming it had something to do with the random trip to America their family was about to venture into.

That was another thing Harry had to adapt to. The fact that there was an entire group of people—let alone a lone entity—willing to cross continents, knowing the dangers it presented, for the sole reason of not leaving him alone was…

A little hard to take in, certainly. Sure, his system might give him assurances for their loyalty, but seeing that loyalty’s applications in the real world was a completely different experience. One he hadn’t been accounting for, in any of his plans.

He wondered if the system would ever show his own affection that he felt for other people. Would his be above 90 for his parents? Perhaps for Rose and Lily?

…He did not believe so.

If he had to venture a guess he’d say his affection was around mid to high 70s. It cannot be above 80 certainly, for he had absolutely no idea what love truly was. And from the little that he’d read, he didn’t believe himself capable of feeling it either.

Climbing the last few steps up the astronomy tower, he was soon greeted by the standing figure of Albus Dumbledore, facing the large archway that opened into thin air.

"Minister." Harry announced his presence.

The man didn't turn, waving him forth. "Call me professor here, Harry. If you don't mind, that is."

Harry's eyes narrowed. 'Wasn't Minister a much higher post?'

A personal preference then. He knew the man had once been the headmaster of this school, sometime over a half a decade prior.

But even then, 'Headmaster' would make more sense than 'Professor'.

'Perhaps he wants me to treat him like a teacher?'

Harry normally wouldn't have put such deep thoughts in a mere preference, but the Minister's infallibility reminded him of the Winter Soldier...even though there were clear differences in their calm façade, and he doubted the Winter Soldier could ever hope to inspire such caution within Harry.

"Professor then." Harry rectified, slowly approaching the tall figure. "Now, where do we begin?”

The newly hailed Professor stayed quiet for a long moment, his gaze still stuck on the horizon. “Beautiful, is it not?”

Harry frowned, eyes flickering around the open terrace-like tower, his limited magical senses extending.

Only once he was sure there wouldn’t be any nasty surprises to be had did he step beside the ancient Warlock, eyes taking in the scene.

It was indeed beautiful. They were standing upon the tallest tower of Hogwarts, enjoying a wide view of the castle from their side. The slightest hint of mist gave it a shimmering pearl-like look, almost forming a deep mystery within, even though Harry knew exactly what he was looking at.

It wasn’t anything new to him, after all. Though that was no reason not to enjoy it again and again.

He couldn’t help but think however that this could’ve been a shade more enjoyable without the looming presence of the Minister beside him.

“You do not like me.” Dumbledore observed quietly. “That isn’t surprising. Not many do, nowadays. Though what is surprising is to see such levels of distrust and suspicion in your eyes. Pray tell, whatever have I done to you my young friend?”

Harry finally took his eyes away from the scene, realizing the Minister’s gaze was fixated upon him now.

For a second, he hesitated. He’d recently come to realize that his bluntness was not always the most preferred method for an exchange of words.

Yet…he couldn’t help but feel it would serve him much better to simply be himself here. Dumbledore did not seem an easy man to deceive. And there was no point in trying if the necessity did not arise.

"You know too much." Harry decided upon the blunt truth. "In my experience, those who know too much have a habit of poking their noses where it doesn't belong."

"Ah." Dumbledore nodded sagely. "You must be alluding to our friend from S.H.I.E.L.D."

Harry blinked. "No? I'm alluding to you, of course."

Dumbledore chuckled, and it actually sounded genuine. "Only too true, my dear boy. My mind, it seems, has slowed with age. Now come, we're wasting daylight."

He extended his arm, and Harry took it only after a very suspicious glance.

The air twisted with a soft crack, his being stretching to impossible limits, passing through a tube of nothingness before being popped out of the other side.

Harry righted himself upon ejection, landing on his feet, a second away from summoning his wand as his eyes did a lightning quick search of their surroundings.

“You better have an explanation, Minister.” His voice could’ve caused deep blisters to erupt upon the ones hearing had the coldness been any thicker. “This wasn't part of the plan.”

His eyes didn’t leave the old man, every movement being tracked like a hawk. From the periphery, he observed some of their surroundings—bringing him the conclusion that they’d arrived someplace completely different than what he’d been led to believe.

He could make out a gilded fireplace—under which they’d landed—carved into the left-hand side of a very large hall. The floor underneath was made out of polished wood, gleaming and reflecting a peacock-blue ceiling with golden specks carved inside that he theorized to be some kind of patterns or designs.

“Please.” The Minister inclined his head in silent apology. “It was not my intention to startle. We’re here at the headquarters of the British Ministry of Magic.”

Harry shook his head. “And why did you feel the need to bring me here, Minister?”

“Professor is fine, Harry.” The old man gently reminded him. “And we’re here because you need to know some truths before you dive deeper into the path that I fear you’re set on walking. Now come.”

The Minister waved at him, starting towards a massive golden statue built in the middle that Harry barely had any time to observe.

“Truths…yeah, I like those.” He muttered, jogging after the warlock. “A Sage should know all the truths he can.”

“What was that?” Dumbledore glanced back.

Harry sighed. “Just get on with this.”

Chuckling, the old man dipped his head. “Very well. Though I hope you don’t mind some small talk.”

Harry shrugged, his eyes flickering around the long hall as they skipped past a booth, the Ministry worker simply waving a hand at them before returning back to work.

"I would like to ask you about our friend; Severus. How has he been treating you lately?"

"As he always does.” Harry snorted. “With half-truths and overly mysterious quips.”

"Do be kind enough to forgive him, Harry. He does it on my orders. And I shall explain soon."

Harry reflected upon the recent events as they took an elevator to the upper floors. The past few minutes had gone past too quickly for him to do anything but go with the flow, and now he found himself wondering…

'What does he want here? Create some trust between us? A teacher-student bond? Or perhaps something more malicious?'

He did not like the way things were going, and a part of him was still deciding if he should simply contact his parents somehow and get the hell out of dodge…

Ultimately however, he realized ‘malicious’ was the last thing this man could be right now. Quite a few people knew with whom Harry was currently, including the Ministry worker sitting in that booth…if the Minister had less than kind intentions towards him, why would he be making things purposely difficult for him?

Perhaps, like Lily said, the man wished to try and manipulate him with words instead of magic. But Harry had lived that life for half his age. Old timer he may be, he would find quite an awakening should he try to wage a battle of words against a Sage.

"I shall be honest, Harry.” Dumbledore started as a female voice announced their arrival on floor 1. “Teaching you how to Apparate has never been my goal for today."

Harry turned to him with wide eyes, completely ‘shook’. "What a big surprise. No truly, I never saw that coming.”

Dumbledore smiled benignly. "Quite. No, what I wish to do is....to get to know you."

Harry blinked, tilting his head. “Is that your super secret way of defeating opponents? Get to know them, then stab them in the back?”

“My, such heinous accusations, Mr. Potter!?” The old man clutched his heart, pained. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you wish to kill me with your words.”

Harry snorted. “Then you most certainly don’t know better. For that is exactly what I mean to do. Now, why exactly do you wish to know about me, Minister?”

"Professor. And for things outside your understanding currently. But should you take a plunge of trust in me, everything should be clear. My role in your past, my plans for future, your parent’s hatred, Severus’ silence, Quirrell's curiosities...the three-headed dog on the third floor that Severus assures me you’ve met already. Everything."

Quest [Prophecy Unleashed] in Progress!

• Discover the truth behind your past ( )
• Win Dumbledore's trust ( )
• Gain Dumbledore's alliance ( )

Reward: 

• 3000 XP
• ???

“I shall give you time to consider, Harry. Perhaps consult your parents—“

“No.”

It was the quest that convinced him in the end. Had Dumbledore meant to deceive him somehow, surely a bonus quest or two would’ve popped up relating to some sort of escape.

To have tasks that went along with exactly what the old man said meant he was being genuine.

“I wish to know now.”

Dumbledore smiled, waving him inside his office, where a stone basin was awaiting Harry’s eyes.

The basin was covered with strange runes and intricate designs, and a wispy smoke seemed to swirl around the surface like fog on an extremely foggy day.

Dumbledore closed the door, quickly walking behind the desk upon which the basin sat. “Your story, Harry. And in return…I shall show you the truth.”

With a deep breath, Harry started upon his tale.

------------------------------------

30 Minutes later…

"You're not evil, are you Harry? You're but a product of your circumstances. Circumstances that should've broken any human who underwent it. Had your will not been as strong, had you not returned to us whole and sound—well, almost—this country would be fated to be doomed. No, I do not blame you for being who you are. Though I will certainly hold you accountable for what you become. But there is time yet for that."

Harry kept quiet, staring as the absent-eyed man twirled his foot long beard.

"I have decided." Dumbledore declared, eyes clearing. "It is time you knew exactly what you’re facing. Buckle down, my friend. This will take time.”

Then the old man stood up, approaching the stone basin, his wand heading for his temple.

“Professor?” Harry asked, a little disturbed to see the warlock drag a thick wisp of glowing white thread out of his head.

“Dive in, Harry.” The powerful wizard bowed his head down. “And I would appreciate it if you can find it in your heart to not hate me.”

....

...

..

It was only an hour later that Harry would catch a break, a jumble of memories swirling inside his head.

He hadn’t expected this day to be the one where he would learn his life’s history—having simply never been interested, for he felt utterly disconnected from the child he had been before welcoming the system in his life—but he didn’t regret it.

Especially not the new function his quest soon revealed.

Quest [Prophecy Unleashed] Completed!

• Discover the truth behind your past (X)
• Win Dumbledore's trust (X)
• Gain Dumbledore's alliance (X)

Reward: 

• 3000 Xp
• [World Level Unlocked]: Lvl 2

[World Level]: The User’s World Level shows the difficulty of the opponents. With each increase in World Level, more powerful beings will be introduced in the world.

• Note: Increase in World Level will hasten the events and story quests for the User.

Things are about to get really juicy. Well...

At least, for him.

------------------------------------

Kamar Taj, Nepal

Far to the east, the Ancient One sat staring into the open skies, her eyes grim and clouded.

Uncertainty was not something she’d been accustomed to for a very long time. It was natural, truly, for the bearer of the Time Stone to eventually get used to being all-knowing.

Yet, for the first time since….ever…the Time Stone had failed her. The future was shrouded from her gaze.

She’d been caught off-guard. Yet somehow, it wasn’t even the worst. The fact that it had been happening gradually for eleven years and she’d been able to do nothing galled at her even more so.

The future couldn’t have been less uncertain for her than for a common man. No, perhaps it was even more unknown to her. For at least the common man could let go of the uncertainty, having experienced it since birth and never knowing exactly what he was missing.

But she, the Sorcerer Supreme? The keeper of the Time Stone, who had been peering into the future for a long time now, secure in her knowledge? How could she deal with suddenly becoming unenlightened? How could she live, knowing all her knowledge had been worthless?

She possessed no sure answer for the first time, but she did know the cause of it.

The shift in fate had started with the kidnapping of a green-eyed child, putting into motion a series of events she’d never seen in any timeline.

In every future that she’d seen, Harry Potter was supposed to have been the best amongst the wizards, etching his name up there with the likes of Merlin Ambrosia. A kind, helpful, fiercely loyal young wizard, who will deal with his demons and eventually come to stand beside the new Sorcerer Supreme, guarding this world from outer-dimensional threats with his life.

That Harry Potter no longer existed. That future no longer existed. Her death, which she’d been preparing for ever since she first foresaw it, no longer existed.

The future has slipped past her fingers, and the world is about to be plunged deep into the webs of the unknown.

Too uncertain, the Ancient One did not know what to do. She was as blind as anyone.

And there was only one who could help her solve this mystery.

The question remained; should she interfere now, and risk derailing everything? Or should she remain as she always had, letting nature run its course?

She stood up, feeling a new kind of excitement building up within her. Something she hadn’t felt for a very long time.

‘Well, ignorance is a bliss of its own.’ She stretched her limbs. ‘If nothing else, I shall at least live in the present now.’

For the future no longer existed as a prewritten line of fate…it formed anew with every passing moment, like a writer composing an entirely new story with every word.

---------------

Washington, USA

Alexander Pierce stopped a whoop of joy from escaping his lips. Somehow, his moles—the few Ares hadn’t managed to unearth—had managed to get into the S.H.I.E.L.D database after numerous failures. A level 7 mission, that a very suspicious Ares had been too tight lipped about, was finally revealed to him.

It was now time to put his plan to motion.

---------------

Asgard, Royal Palace of Valaskjalf

The king of Asgard and the protector of the Nine Realms, Odin Borson, sat upon his throne, frowning—a sudden bout of weakness spreading within his bones.

He had been hoping to postpone his period of deep rest for a longer time still, fearing the consequences his absence may have upon the Nine Realms…but perhaps that had been a foolish decision.

His sons were almost ready now. With Thor’s strength and Loki’s mind, the kingdom shall stay secured.

There was no point in delaying further. It would seem he must hold Thor’s coronation a little earlier than he’d planned.

------------------------------------

With a new threat to motivate him further, Harry’s last few days in Hogwarts passed in a blur of slaughter and learning—mainly the Apparition, which barely took a few minutes, letting him focus completely on 'Slaughter'. He easily tore through the first two levels of the dungeon in record time—mainly because he was much stronger than before, but meh, semantics—and took just a bit more time in clearing level three.

The massive amount of XP that accumulated all at once was a sight for the sore eyes. And his sore eyes certainly got their wish as he saw his level rise from 63 directly to 68! Though of course this also included his daily quests, random quests, and Dumbledore’s surprisingly high reward.

The end result however, ended up enabling him to put all his 29 stat points into his 71 dexterity, bringing it to a clean 100 and finally giving him his most desirable perk of all!

Hawkeye: Weapons shall auto-aim at any target in a hundred meters range as directed by the User's eyes.

He even had to forgo some quality time with his girl-friends  for this to happen unfortunately, only giving them a single 5-minute snogging session before his day of departure arrived in the form of a letter.

Dear Harry, you'll be pleased to know the Minister has given me an extended leave of twenty days. I've decided that we should treat this like an actual holiday, to avoid any suspicions and all. So...I kinda went ahead and booked us all plane tickets. You don't mind planes do you? I've never been on one, and thought it might be great to see how muggle versions of brooms truly work.

Also, I've been debating if we should bring in our friends and their families as well. You already know Remus and Sara. And I've heard from a grouchy Sirius that his daughter holds you in a very high regard. So just...let me know what you think. By the end of the day hopefully, cause we leave the day after tomorrow.

With love,

James

Harry smiled. ‘Now the fun begins.’

------------------------------------

AN: Aaaand done! Hogwarts arc is over for now! Harry's winter holidays has arrived early, though they aren't the only thing arriving.

Now first of all, I wanted to give a huge thnx to all the comments in the last post. Really lightened my mood. So much so in fact that I've written almost 5k words in one—and a half?—freakin day. 

Lets. Freakin. Go.

I just hope the quality didn't suffer. This chapter was quite different than the last 3 chaps, as it didn't have as much action to drive it forward. Conversations were the main focus here, and I hope you enjoyed.

Let me know if you notice any dip in quality.

That's all for today, take care and peace!