Major Arcana Part 2 (Patreon)

"You're telling me that I'm the Harry Potter from this world and that you have a secret society of magic users that hide from the normal world? What makes you think I'm this world's Harry Potter, especially since I don't have a curse scar or need glasses?"

"But you used to have a scar," Dumbledore replied.

"Not that I recall," Harry replied with a shrug.

“There is a simple spell that will resolve the matter,” Dumbledore said, pulling out his wand and muttering something in a language neither of the others knew as he waved it over Harry’s head. “There!”

“I can see a glowing mark in the shape of a lightning bolt on your forehead, which I assume is an old injury as well as what looks to be one on your right cheek?” Severus asked curiously.

“Accident playing with a sword,” Harry replied, mentally conceding there may be something to what they were saying but wanting to check with his family before finding out if he was their missing boy hero, which fit with his dad’s archetype so was entirely possible, even if he wasn’t sure how time and space got twisted about for him to end up with his family while his family died here. If time travel ended up being involved he was simply going to smile and nod, his father said it was best not to try and figure these things out because all it would do was cause headaches.

“I may have had a scar marking me as similar to your lost Potter, but that doesn’t exactly provide much proof since I am obviously from a different world where some similar events must have occurred just to have been born in the first place,” Harry pointed out.

“The spell I used could only have summoned the Harry Potter who was born here,” Dumbledore insisted, “the spell has many safety features to prevent accidentally summoning something other than what is requested since we are reaching beyond the veil of worlds.”

Harry shuddered. “Yeah, nothing good ever comes of doing that. My parents have told stories about idiots who mucked about with things mankind wasn’t meant to know.”

“Thankfully the designer of the spell generally limited herself to poking them with a stick,” Dumbledore said while Snape buried his face in his hands and groaned.

“Alright, let’s just assume I am in fact the Potter you are looking for,” Harry said, “that still doesn’t change the fact that I was perfectly happy at home and would like to return there. I have a family, one not murdered by an idiot with too much power and too little brains and morals, and I love them.”

“Ah, that was not something I had foreseen,” Dumbledore admitted.

“Nor bothered to listen to me about the subject,” Snape muttered dryly.

Dumbledore sighed. “I can start researching a way to return you, but it’ll take time, possibly a year or more and there may be some events that need to occur before it is possible.”

“Prophecy?” Harry guessed, recalling his father talking about them and the perverse pride he took in twisting them about simply because it amused him to do so.

“How did…”

Harry shrugged. “My father has a Chosen Hero archetype, prophecies come with the territory.” The young boy sighed heavily. “Fine, what’s the wording?”

“I had hoped not to burden you with it until you were older,” Dumbledore admitted.

“And that has clearly failed,” Harry said dryly, making Snape cover a laugh with a cough, “so how about we get down to brass tacks and start figuring things out?”

0o0o0

"So much for this being a prank," Harry muttered as he avoided yet another cloaked figure that seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere. 'There's no way Mum wouldn't have gotten an invitation to a magic fair and all of the buildings look old.'

Harry followed a wizard in a purple cloak into the Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment shop and looked around at the collection of gear displayed on the shelves. 'This is like something out of a D&D game,' he mused as he walked over to the shelf stacked with trunks.

"Can I help you with something?" the old man behind the counter asked when he saw the kid that looked a lot like James Potter, someone that he'd run into a number of times over the years since he was one of the more trustworthy aurors. He glanced at the kid's forehead, a touch surprised that he didn't have a scar.

Harry looked at the white haired man behind the counter that was wearing a suit that wouldn't have been out of place in an old photograph. "I'm just looking for a magic trunk."

"We have a decent collection," the old man replied with a smile. "You look a lot like someone I used to know, are you related to James Potter?"

"I'm Harry, that’s my father's name, did you know him?" Harry asked.

"He came in here a lot when he was going to school and swung by on a regular basis when he was an auror, he was a good man," the man offered.

"Good to know," Harry replied.

"What type of trunk are you looking for?" the man asked.

"I don't even know where to start," Harry admitted.

"Let's start with the most important question, are you a bookworm?" the man asked as he walked around the counter.

"Yes," Harry replied without hesitation, seeing nothing wrong with reading.

"Let's see," the man said as he looked through the collection of trunks. "You shouldn't need the self cleaning feature or the wardrobe feature."

"Wardrobe feature?" Harry asked.

"Trunks are solid enough to anchor some rather impressive expansion charms and some people like having all of their clothes handy for trips," the man explained.

"Do any of them come with beds or a quiet place to study?" Harry asked thoughtfully, not particularly interested in sleeping on a hotel bed for the rest of summer and curious how far the local magic users could push things.

"Several…" the man trailed off as he realized he had a chance to unload something that had been taking up space for a decade and pay James back for saving his life in the war. "Actually, I might have just the thing, do you like green?"

"It's okay, why?" Harry asked.

"Because I'm pretty sure the person that decorated the trunk was color blind," the man replied as he pulled his wand out of his wand holster in his sleeve and levitated a steamer trunk down from the top of the rather tall shelf. "It has three compartments, a basic compartment, a compartment that connects to your library and the entrance to the cabin," he explained as he demonstrated how to open the trunk to each compartment.

"How much?" Harry asked, rather impressed with the fact that the trunk could carry thousands of books without getting any heavier.

"I'll let it go for double the standard trunk," the man offered.

"Why so cheap?" Harry asked.

The shopkeeper closed and opened the trunk to the 'small' apartment. "I got it from an estate sale eleven years ago and it's just taking up space."

Harry stared down at the bright green shag carpet that he could see ten feet down through the top of the trunk. 'Yeah, that's bright. Nothing a color changing spell won't fix and I'm going to need the library.' He glanced at the sturdy looking wooden ladder that went down into the room then smiled at the shopkeeper. "I'll take it."

"Excellent," the man replied as he closed the trunk. "Do you need anything else, like a wand holster or an expanded bag for your books?"

"Wouldn't hurt," Harry agreed, rather glad that he'd snagged an extra bag of gold from his vault when Hagrid was trying to recover from the cart ride. "Do you have any helpful advice for people that aren't familiar with the wizarding world?"

"I'd check the used bookstores for your books, you can usually save a decent amount if you're willing to spend a couple of minutes looking over the books to make sure they're in reasonable shape," he said as he walked over to the shelf filled with expanded bags.

"Used book stores are great," Harry agreed as he walked over to look at the bags.

"Just be careful, some of the shops in Knockturn alley don't check their wares for curses," the man replied as he grabbed a dark brown leather book bag off the shelf and held it up. "This should be more than enough for your basic supplies, including a couple of dozen books. It also has a different compartment for your ink and quills."

"Quills?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Let me guess, you've never used a quill before?" the man asked with amusement.

"Do fountain pens count?" Harry asked, thinking about the enchanted fountain pen his mother used for official invites and magical contracts.

"They're close but should probably spend some time practicing," the man suggested as he handed the bag to Harry. "You should probably pick up a couple of fountain pens, you can't use them on official tests but they're useful for homework and notes."

"Why would anyone use a quill when they could use a fountain pen or a pencil?" Harry asked, wondering about the wizarding world's sanity.

"Tradition and bribes," the man replied as he walked over to the shelf filled with enchanted fountain pens.

"Lovely," Harry muttered as he followed the shopkeeper.

"I suggest picking up a book on wizarding traditions and reading it before you get to Hogwarts," the shopkeeper suggested.

"Thanks," Harry replied, fairly sure he was going to spend the rest of the summer reading. "Is there anything else I need?"

"I can think of a couple of things," the shopkeeper replied with a smile.

0o0o0

Draco Malfoy turned and looked at the dark haired kid wearing shorts and a muggle t-shirt that had just walked into the shop. "Great, another muggle-born."

Harry glanced at the kid with slicked back blonde hair with a look of disgust on his face then glanced around to make sure the tailor wasn't close enough to hear him. "Oh great, another bigot," he said sarcastically.

"They don't belong at Hogwarts," Draco replied dismissively, unwilling to admit that he didn't actually understand the boy's insult.

"Why not?" Harry asked, wondering if he had an actual reason to feel that way or if he was just spouting shit he'd heard.

"What do you mean why? They're inferior," Draco complained.

"So? Why should you care?" Harry asked, trying to get a better idea of the culture of the wizarding world.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, surprised the other boy wasn't getting defensive.

"Are they stealing your jobs?" Harry asked, thinking about some of the crap the more annoying villains spewed to get people to follow them.

"I'm a Malfoy, we don't have jobs," Draco bragged.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Okay, if they're not stealing your jobs, why should you care if they learn magic?"

Draco scowled at Harry. "Because they don't deserve it."

'Deal with the local idiots, check,' Harry mused as the tailor walked out of the back room holding several Hogwarts outfits.

"What can I help you with?" Madam Malkin asked Harry.

"There was a bit of an accident, I need a new wardrobe," Harry explained, trying not to be too annoyed at Dumbledore for pulling him away from his life and his family.

Draco sneered when he saw a Hagrid through the window holding a white owl looking in the window at them. "What did you do, set it on fire?"

Harry ignored Draco knowing that most assholes hated being ignored.

"I can take care of that, let me finish Malfoy's order then we'll get started," she replied as she got to work making sure everything fit the annoying brat.

0o0o0

Harry nibbled on his bottom lip as he examined the glowing strands of magic that were wrapped around the doorframe to the wand shop. 'You can't honestly expect me to walk through that mess, can you?' he mused as he watched a kid and his mother leave the shop with a wooden wand. 'No reaction, maybe it's just security.'

Harry waited for the excited looking child with the wand to walk off then gestured at the door and cast an identify spell on the lines of magic, not seeing a reason to take a chance. 'Alarm spell and minor scrying effect to learn people's names. Is it worth trying to break? Seems a bit rude and I doubt it matters, I'm not exactly hiding.'

He stepped through the doorway and looked around the wand shop, seeing a confusing and headache-inducing collection of magical auras from all of the wands on display. He mentally turned down the sensitivity on his sunglasses then focused on the white haired old man behind the counter. "Where do we start?"

"Welcome Mr. Potter, I'd wondered if we'd be seeing you," Ollivander said cheerfully as he walked over to measure his arm.

"Everyone needs a wand," Harry lied, rather happy that Dumbledore had explained the basics about their style of magic.

"Let me see your wand hand," Ollivander said as he pulled a tape measure out of his pocket.

"Same hand I write with, yes?" Harry asked as he held his right hand out, wanting to make sure he didn't get the wrong wand because of a misunderstanding.

"Yes," he replied as the measuring device flew over and started measuring his arm.

"Is there a reason you have to measure my arm?" Harry asked.

Ollivander studied Harry for a couple of seconds then gestured for the flying measuring tape to float over to the counter. "I've found that distracting the students helps them find a wand," he explained as he walked over and grabbed a box off the shelf.

"Makes sense," Harry said, knowing that certain abilities were supposed to be easier to use if you were calm. He examined the magic contained in the wand, wishing he knew enough about the local magic users to figure out how the magic worked without casting an identify spell. 'It doesn't look cursed and I have my necklace. I'll double check it later.'

Ollivander handed Harry a pale wand. "Let's start with this one, just give it a bit of a wave…" he trailed off as Harry waved the wand and an enthusiastic stream of multicolored sparks shot out of the end of it demonstrating an excellent match. "Curious."

"Curious?" Harry asked, wondering if he'd screwed up.

Ollivander took a second to recall the last time he'd managed to match a wand on the first try with that degree of success. "It has been seven years, four months and three days since I've seen that sort of a reaction on the first try."

"Seriously?" Harry blurted.

"I usually give people wands that don't fit so I can judge the reaction for a better fit," Ollivander admitted. "Pear and Thestral tail hair, an interesting combination but I guess it shouldn't surprise me."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Pear wands lend themselves to wizards or witches that are generous and warm hearted and thestral hair wands only respect a magic user that has faced death," Ollivander said as he headed up to the counter to ring the wand up.

"Okay," Harry replied as he walked over to pay. 'Now I just need to pick up the clothes, find Hagrid then I can hit the bookstores. Hopefully someone wrote a guide for people that grew up in a normal family for this world.'

0o0o0

"Can you explain why some of the people think muggle-borns are worse than purebloods?" Harry asked Hagrid as they headed back to the Leaky Cauldron to take some type of magical transportation to Hogwarts.

"Because they're idiots," Hagrid complained. "Some of the best wizards and witches I've known have been halfblood or less. Professor Dumbledore would be considered a half-blood because his mother was a muggle-born and he is one of the only people You Know Who ever feared."

"Seems a bit weird," Harry replied, thinking about the various Dark Lords and Villains that popped up in his world. "You'd think a bunch of bloodline fanatics would make a distinction between a half blood that had a child with someone without magic and someone that had a child with someone that had magic but wasn't one of the old families."

"They're a few eggs short of a dozen," Hagrid agreed as he walked into the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry made sure his hair was pulled back so people could see his lack of scar since most of the books about 'him' made a big deal out of his scar then followed Hagrid into the pub and plastered a smile on his face when everyone turned to stare at him, reminding him of some of his father's more rabid fans. 'That's disturbing.'

"Is that Harry?" one of the men asked, looking for all the world like he'd just won the grand prize in a contest.

'I might have underestimated my fame,' Harry mused as he glanced around the room, a bit disturbed by the sheer level of awe he could see on their faces. "I'm a Harry, which one are you looking for?"

"Harry Potter, he should be going to Hogwarts soon," one of the witches explained.

"My last name is also Potter," Harry replied cheerfully, thinking back of some of the lectures his father had given about public speaking. "I've been informed that I bear a striking resemblance though I don't have a lightning bolt scar which means that I'm obviously not the hero you're looking for or I'm in disguise."

Hagrid shook his head, trying not to laugh. "We should get going Harry."

"Might be for the best," Harry agreed as he headed over to the fireplace, knowing they only had a few seconds to vanish before people realized that he was actually the person they were looking for.

Hagrid followed Harry over to the fireplace then grabbed a pinch of floo powder and tossed it into the flames, causing them to turn green. "You should go first, just say Hogwarts' staff fireplace as you step into the flames."

"Hogwarts," Harry said as he stepped into the flames with his trunk, losing the rest of what he was going to say as something tickled his nose and he sneezed.

"Shouldn't have done that," Hagrid muttered then stepped into the fireplace, hoping he'd end up in the same place. "Hogwarts."