Chapter 6: Shattering Limits and Secrets in the Tower
The next morning dawned golden and crisp, the first rays of autumn sunlight bathing the turrets of Hogwarts Castle in warm amber. A new day awaited, and with it, a fresh schedule of classes for the eager, wide-eyed first years.
Harrison Strange Potter stood in the Great Hall, calmly sipping enchanted mint tea from a rune-carved goblet, reviewing his day's itinerary while the enchanted ceiling mirrored the cloudless sky. He was clad in his crisp Hogwarts uniform, pristine despite the early hour, with his wand and staff secured discreetly within his dimensional satchel. His multicolored eyes—one a deep amethyst, the other a bright azure—glimmered with purpose.
All around him, whispers followed like shadows.
"Did you see what he did in Potions?"
"I heard McGonagall almost applauded!"
"He memorized every known wand movement in Charms before the first class."
The day was only beginning.
---
Charms Class
Professor Filius Flitwick, a small but energetic man, stood atop a stack of books on his desk, clapping his tiny hands together. "Welcome, welcome, first years! Today, we begin with the Levitation Charm: Wingardium Leviosa!"
Students practiced on feathers set on the old oak desks. Most waved awkwardly. Some got nothing but sparks. A few managed to make their feathers twitch.
Harrison, however, simply raised his wand and murmured the spell with intent. His feather lifted smoothly into the air, spinning like a dancer before transforming into a delicate glowing bird of light—his own twist on the charm.
Flitwick nearly fell off his books.
"My stars! That's... a hybrid charm! Light transmutation and levitation in one stroke! That's NEW magic!"
The class turned as one, mouths agape.
"How... how did you do that?" a Ravenclaw girl whispered.
Harrison shrugged. "I just visualized more than the spell required. Intention is the soul of magic."
Flitwick clapped with joy. "Mr. Potter, I daresay you have the makings of a Master Enchanter. Ten points to Gryffindor!"
---
Herbology - Greenhouse One
The scent of loamy earth and crushed thyme filled the air as the class assembled outside Greenhouse One. Professor Sprout, warm but firm, handed out dragon-hide gloves.
"Today, we handle puffapods. Don't let them burst prematurely."
Most students handled them like raw eggs, sweating under the pressure. But Harrison examined his carefully, then used a slow breath technique—one learned in Egypt during his time as Carter Kane—to control magical feedback.
As he pressed the pod into the earth, it blossomed into a full bloom instantly—without even a puff of smoke.
Sprout squinted. "That's a dormant-bloom hybrid technique... not taught outside advanced Herbological texts."
Harrison offered a respectful nod. "Learned it while cross-referencing magical botany from the Nile delta."
Cedric Diggory, who had been quietly excelling beside Harrison, raised a brow with impressed respect.
"You really do live up to the rumors," Cedric said.
"Rumors fade. Deeds endure," Harrison replied with a faint smile.
Cedric smirked. "We'll see if you can keep pace with the older years."
"I don't pace," Harrison said calmly. "I lead."
---
History of Magic
The classroom was colder than the rest of the castle, dimly lit, with desks arranged in strict rows. Professor Binns, the only ghost teacher at Hogwarts, drifted through his lecture with little enthusiasm.
Most students were barely conscious halfway through.
Except Harrison, who wrote furiously. Not just notes, but corrections. Dates Binns misquoted, events he glossed over. By the end of class, Harrison had compiled a three-page supplement to the lecture and handed it in.
Binns floated back, blinking.
"Curious. Very thorough. Most... enlightening."
He posted the supplement on the classroom board.
Harrison had rewritten a lecture from a ghost.
---
Astronomy - Midnight
Late that night, under a velvet sky spangled with stars, students climbed the winding stairs to the Astronomy Tower.
Professor Sinistra stood near her telescope, pointing out constellations. Harrison listened carefully, then raised his own telescope to the stars.
"That's not Cetus," he corrected gently when she pointed to a cluster. "It's part of the Alth'azim Spiral, a constellation seen only during eldritch alignments."
She stared. "You've studied celestial theory beyond this plane?"
"Eldritch magic and Egyptian sorcery both rely on interdimensional celestial alignments," Harrison said. "The stars are more than light. They're doorways."
Sinistra adjusted her chart silently.
---
After Classes - Summoned to the Tower
That evening, as Harrison studied in the common room, a note appeared in a curl of golden flame.
Come to my office, Mr. Potter. -A.D.
Harrison stood slowly. Fred raised a brow. "Detention already?"
"Not quite," Harrison replied. "It's time I met the puppet master."
He walked the long, spiraling staircases of the castle, his boots silent against the stone. The air felt heavier the closer he got to the tower.
Outside the office door, a gargoyle sat waiting.
"Password?"
"Order through Chaos," Harrison replied.
The gargoyle leapt aside.
Inside, the office was a circular chamber filled with whirring instruments, glowing orbs, and portraits of former headmasters. Fawkes the phoenix trilled gently from his perch.
Albus Dumbledore, long-bearded and robed in indigo and silver, stood behind his desk.
"Ah, Harrison. Come in."
Harrison didn't bow. He nodded once and stepped in.
"You've caused quite the stir," Dumbledore said. "Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Astronomy, even History. Professors are talking about you."
"I aim to make an impression," Harrison said calmly.
"And you've made several. But tell me... where did you learn to wield such varied and ancient magic?"
Harrison tilted his head. "You already know the answer. Otherwise, you wouldn't have summoned me."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, but not with amusement.
"You're not just a boy. There's more in your soul than should be."
"Perhaps," Harrison replied. "But that doesn't make me a threat to Hogwarts—unless you are."
The temperature in the room dropped.
"You speak boldly."
"I've lived boldly. More than once."
Dumbledore exhaled. "And what are your intentions here, Harrison?"
"To protect my family. To forge a future free from manipulation. And to ensure my cousin—Harry—is never your pawn again."
Dumbledore's smile faded. "You see yourself as his shield."
"I am his sword."
A long silence.
"Very well," Dumbledore said, voice quiet. "But remember this: every fire, no matter how noble, can become wild."
Harrison turned to leave.
"Then let the world prepare for the flame."
He left the office as Fawkes let out a low, thoughtful cry.
---
Back in Gryffindor Tower, Harrison stood at the window, staring into the night. The stars shimmered. In his palm, the Time Stone glowed faintly.
A storm was coming.
And he would meet it head-on.