Chapter Text
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When the world finally stopped spinning Harrison found himself in a large room. There were four rows of tables with children sitting on them. Their ages were varied between tenish and 18 he thought. They wore robes of varying trim colors but seemed to be sitting together. Red, yellow, blue, and green. They each had a crest.
Did he just get pulled into a cult?
He almost wished it was a Warden and the White Council. At least with them, he knew where he stood and what rules to follow. Here though, he was completely off balanced.
Turning his head so that he could look further around he found more people. These were in different uniforms that were completely different from the ones at the tables. French and Scandinavian if he had to guess.
Then there were the adults. They varied in ages but one caught his attention. An old man with twinkling blue eyes. The robes he wore made him difficult to look at. It would have been so easy to dismiss him as a crazy old man. Except for his magic that was tightly controlled. This man was dangerous.
Some of the adults began muttering. Harrison reached for his his shield charm in case they attacked. Where was he and who were these people?
A surge of magic made his gaze turn to a giant goblet like object. Blue flames were flickering. It's magic surged and he could feel it tying into his core. So that was what called him here.
Why?
A piece of paper shot out. The old man caught it never taking his eyes off of Harrison. He opened it slowly and stared at it.
"Harry Potter," he declared.
Who?
The old man looked at him and held out the paper as he said, "Here you go, Mr. Potter. Take this and we will explain things in a few minutes."
He took the paper cautiously. A name was on the top. It was in odd penmanship. Harry James Potter.
Who?
He stepped back from the old man with narrowed eyes. What kind of joke was this? Looking back at the paper in his hand held his Name. Which was a terrible idea.
What kind of idiot writes down another's Name? Were they fucking stupid?! His dad was going to burn this stupid place to ground.
Harrison shook out his shield bracelet and called forth his will. Everyone stares at him like he'd grown a second head. They had kidnapped him! What right did they have to look at him like that?!
"Who the fuck are you people?" He growled.
The old man smiled at him. He wasn't afraid of him. Harrison didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. Especially since his magic recognized the old man as a threat. But the smile was genuine and that confused him.
"I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," said the old man, "I apologize for suddenness of the situation. We have a Tournament going on. It seems you were chosen Mr. Potter."
Mr. Potter, huh. Not likely. But he let it slide. For now. He was missing a fight against the White Council to deal with these idiots.
"Where the bloody hell am I?" Questioned Harrison, "And who the bloody hell is Harry Potter?"
"It's on the slip," replied the old man, "That is the name you were born under. You were living with your aunt and uncle before you disappeared. You were supposed to come here to my school."
"What kind of nutcase kidnaps a kid to go to school," snarled Harrison, "You do realize my dad will kick your asses right? You're going to start an international incident with the White Council."
They might not like Harrison or his dad but they were wizards and affiliated with the Council. Hell his other dad was a Free Holding Lord!
Looking closer he got the feelings these were the sorcerers group that had split off from the Council in early 10th century. The ones that made schools and Ministries rather than a Council. From what Harrison remembered from his lessons they were stuck in the old ways. They didn't even make their own focci.
Weirdos.
Harrison was already considering opening a way into the Nevernever. Dad had said not to do that without him there but he'd make an exception for this situation. Right?
"Please, Mr. Potter," insisted the old man, "Come sit. We'll explain. Then once the next contestant is announced we will answer any questions you have. Alright?"
His eyes were twinkling and tried to meet his eyes. Oh fuck no. No soul gazes for Harrison today.
"Sure," agreed the teenager, "As long as it isn't a bunch of lies. I don't like liars. My family tends to shoot those on principle."
"Of course not," assured the old man, "I would never dream of lying to you, Mr. Potter."
"My last name is Blackstone," growled Harrison doing his best to impersonate John Marcone's poker face.
He was still considering using the Nevernever to escape. But he didn't know where exactly this would put him. With his luck, he'd end up in the Summer Court. No thank you.
One of the people, a man in all black approached him. Harrison eyed him consideringly. He still hadn't lowered the arm with the shield bracelet. And the man had a stick in his hand. Like an actual stick! Who did that?!
"Professor Snape," greeted the old man, "This is our final champion, Harry Potter..."
"Blackstone," snapped Harrison in a low biting growl.
"Mr. Blackstone then," the old man conceded, "Why don't you show him to the Gryffindor Table, Severus?"
"I'm not going anywhere with you," snapped Harrison, "My parents will be here soon."s, he could manipulate the damn thing.
"If that happens, I'm sure we can clear things up," agreed the old man, "But for now, please enjoy the feast.
Or he could pull a Dresden as they said. Blow the building to high heaven, grab the Goblet and give it to his dads. They'd sort the mess out. Probably. Maybe. If not he'd have to call in Kincaid. Kincaid liked him as he was friends with Ivy.
Snape was giving him an annoyed look. Like he was expecting him to listen. To obey the old man's orders. Was this guy mad or just that stupid? His dad would kill him if he did something that stupid. Well the one that adopted him anyway.
"Please, Mister Blackstone," sighed the old man, "You can't stay in the middle of the aisle. Go to the table. Enjoy the food. I promise, no harm shall come to you."
"Swear on your power," demanded Harry.
The old man blinked. Did he really think that Harrison was that much of a moron that he'd trust the word of a stranger?
"Of course," promised the old man, "I swear that no harm will come to you."
Harrison let out a breath before considering the tables. There were four and each had students in different colored robes. He could see their emotions. Greed, fear, hate, hope and worry were the most common. A few had anger and happiness in their auras. It was the same with the adults. All except for the old man. His was too tightly controlled to get a read on.
With a sigh, Harrison moved towards the most controlled seeming group in green. Their emotions were the easiest to handle. Less volatile. A few seemed surprised by his actions. Particularly a boy about his age with blond hair and mercury eyes.
"You are in the wrong spot, Potter," sneered the greasy haired man, "Go sit at the other table. The Gryffindor Table is across the room."
Harrison looked back towards where he was pointing. Then he sneered. Those had the most volatile emotions and he wanted no part of it.
The blond boy nodded approvingly as he said, "Welcome to the Slytherin Table, Potter..."
"Blackstone," insisted Harrison, "My name is Harrison Blackstone."
"Harrison," the boy corrected, "I'm Draco Malfoy, son of the Lord Malfoy of the Wizengamot. These are Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. And that is Pansy Parkinson. Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Millicent Bulstrode are also on the team. Welcome to the House of Snakes."
"Thanks," said Harrison as he sat down.