Harry Potter: MageX

Location: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland 

Date: June 24, 2013

The moment Fawkes's tears hit Harry's wound, the world decided to hit pause, like someone just yanked the remote control out of thin air. The Basilisk's massive body sprawled on the floor, lifeless and grotesque, like a bad birthday gift no one wanted. Meanwhile, Tom Riddle's ghostly figure evaporated into the air like smoke after a candle gets blown out. But Harry? Harry wasn't paying attention to any of that. There was something way more important going on inside him, something that made him feel like he was being hit by a magical storm, except this time, he was both the lightning and the thunder.

The tears were warm, but it wasn't a soothing kind of warmth. It was more like someone lit a fire inside him and then decided to throw a bucket of acid on it for fun. It mixed with the venom in his blood, the nasty stuff that had been part of his life since the whole Voldemort-tried-to-kill-me-as-a-baby thing, and the dark magic from his scar that never seemed to go away. It was like his body was a chemical experiment gone wrong.

Harry's scar flared with pain, like someone was trying to punch through his skull with a sledgehammer. His vision went blurry, and his muscles tensed so hard he thought his bones might snap. This wasn't just healing. No, this felt more like a transformation. It was like his entire body was being pulled apart, stitched back together, then pulled apart again, all in the span of a few seconds. If he didn't know better, he'd think he was turning into a human firecracker.

Then it happened. A flash of light so bright Harry had to close his eyes, which was a problem because everything was so freaking bright he could've sworn he saw his own soul trying to crawl out of his body. The light wasn't gentle. It wasn't like a cute little glow from a nightlight. No, it was more like being blasted by the sun while standing in front of a thousand flashbulbs. He could feel power coursing through him, some kind of crazy, untamable energy, but also something that wasn't just power. It was him. Like it was remaking him at the molecular level, and he wasn't sure if he was going to come out the other side still looking like Harry Potter.

But then, just when things couldn't get worse, came the pull. It was like gravity, but worse. Like Voldemort's little piece of soul, the one stuck in his scar, was clawing its way out. It fought against the light, but it didn't have a chance. Harry felt it trying to escape, but instead of slipping away, it was sucked right back into the chaos inside him. He didn't know what to make of it. Was it gone? Was it part of him now? Harry wasn't sure, but he knew one thing: there was no turning back.

Reality bent around him like a funhouse mirror. Colors melted together. The floor tilted. And then—bam. He was out cold.

When Harry opened his eyes (or at least he thought he did), the first thing he saw was Ginny's face, which, if he were being honest, was probably the last thing he wanted to see after what had just happened. Her eyes were wide, panicked, and probably one shade away from "end-of-the-world" red.

"Harry? Harry, can you hear me? What's happening?" she asked, clutching his shoulder like it was the only thing keeping him from floating away.

Harry didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure he even knew where his body was at this point, let alone how to explain any of what had just gone down. "I… I think I'm okay," he rasped, sounding like someone had dumped sandpaper in his throat. "Just… give me a sec."

Ginny, however, wasn't having any of it. "A sec? Harry, you look like you've been hit by a Bludger, then dragged through a hedge backward, and then dropped off a cliff for fun! You glowed like a bloody Christmas tree, and—" She broke off, biting her lip, looking like she might start crying. "And I thought you were going to—"

"I didn't," Harry interrupted, but his weak smile probably wasn't helping his case. "I'm still here. See? Still annoying you."

Ginny didn't look like she was buying it. In fact, if looks could kill, Harry would've been down for the count. "You're unbelievable, you know that? You scare the life out of me, saving the day, almost getting yourself killed, and then acting like it's no big deal. You're worse than Fred and George!"

"Worse?" Harry managed a weak chuckle, wincing as it sent a bolt of pain through his chest. "I'd say I'm at least a little more responsible."

"Yeah, right," Ginny muttered, her grip tightening as if she was trying to stop him from flying off into space. "But you're okay now, right?"

"Yeah. Fine," Harry mumbled, his eyelids already drooping. "You're okay. That's all that matters."

Ginny, however, wasn't giving up. She grabbed his wrist with determination. "You're not fine, Harry. And I'm not letting you off the hook that easy. We're getting out of here, and you're going straight to Madam Pomfrey whether you like it or not."

Harry gave her a tired look, the kind that only comes after someone's been through more weirdness than any person should have to handle in a single day. "Alright, Ginny. You win," he muttered, letting the darkness take him.

And with that, Ginny gave him a look that could've frozen lava. "You're damn right I do."

---

Location: Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, Westchester County, New York 

Date: June 24, 2013

The hum of Cerebro was like the low buzz of a dying bee, but Charles Xavier wasn't paying much attention to that. He was too busy getting hit with a mental wave so intense that it felt like someone had kicked his brain into overdrive. Sitting in his trusty wheelchair, he pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to ride out the tsunami of thoughts crashing into him. If you've never felt what it's like to sense the entire world's worth of mutant minds all at once, it's a lot like standing in the middle of a stadium full of people shouting at you while wearing a pair of noise-cancelling headphones. Except, this time, there was something new in the mix—a power that practically knocked him back in his seat.

Before he could even process what was happening, the alarms went off. You know, the kind of alarms that make you wish you were anywhere but in a building filled with teenagers who already think the place is an obstacle course.

The red lights flooded the hallways like a scene out of Star Wars—if you replaced the laser blasts with slightly less cool panic. Charles opened his eyes with the kind of urgency that made you think maybe you were dealing with an emergency, and not just a teenager skipping out on curfew. His voice rang out over the intercom.

"Ororo, Logan, to Cerebro. Now."

No room for debate there. It was the kind of command that made you stop whatever you were doing and think, Okay, this is definitely going to be one of those 'we could all die today' kind of situations.

A second later, the door to the chamber slid open, and in walked Ororo Munroe—aka Storm—looking like she just walked out of an action movie. Her hair was a whole thing on its own, all white and billowy like she'd just stepped out of a thunderstorm. Behind her was Logan, arms crossed, glaring like someone had stolen his last beer. He had that cigar sticking out of his mouth like he was in some sort of old Western movie, but with more grumbling and less horseback riding.

"You better have a good reason for this, Chuck," Logan growled, smoke trailing from his cigar like it had somewhere better to be. "I was about to kick back and enjoy some downtime. Now I've got alarms blaring in my face like it's New Year's Eve."

"Logan," Ororo's voice cut through his grumbling, cool and calm. "Professor, what's going on?"

Charles gave them both a look that was a mix of I'm so serious right now and You guys are in way over your heads. "Cerebro's detected the emergence of a new mutant. An Omega-Level mutant. Their power is... well, let's just say it's so off the charts, even Magneto might start taking notes."

Logan, who clearly wasn't phased by anything, raised an eyebrow. "Let me get this straight. We're talking about someone who can bench-press the Empire State Building, right? Something worse than Jean, or Magneto? What, are we looking at the next apocalypse or just a really bad day at the office?"

Charles looked at him, the weight of the situation sinking in. "It's... more than that, Logan. This mutant's abilities could tear reality apart. We don't know the full extent, but it's big. Really big."

Ororo stepped forward, her usual calmness shifting into action mode. "Where are they, Charles? If they're this powerful, we need to find them before someone with worse intentions does."

Charles gestured to the holographic map floating in the air like some sort of high-tech treasure map. "Their energy signature is... difficult to track. It's warping the space around them. It's like trying to find a needle in a haystack that's been set on fire."

Logan cracked his knuckles with a sound like cracking a dozen eggs, his claws just itching to make an appearance. "So, what? We're supposed to play babysitter to some kid with superpowers they don't even know how to use? Sounds like fun."

"This isn't about babysitting," Charles said, his voice softening, but still serious. "This is about making sure they don't destroy themselves—or the world. They need guidance, protection, and most of all, they need to know they're not alone."

Ororo gave Charles a reassuring smile, her hand resting on his shoulder. "We'll find them, Professor. We'll bring them here, where they can learn how to control their powers. They deserve that chance."

Logan, who was clearly not in the mood for emotional speeches, shoved his cigar back between his teeth. "Safe? Well, I hope this kid doesn't blow up the place before they figure it out. But, fine, I'm in. Just don't ask me to hold hands and sing Kumbaya."

Charles cracked a small smile. "Wouldn't dream of it, Logan. But remember, this isn't just about us. It's about the future of all mutants."

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was no mistaking the serious tone beneath his sarcasm. "Yeah, yeah. Save the world, save the kid, blah, blah, blah. Just tell me when we're going."

Ororo smiled, her gaze shifting to Charles, before giving him a quiet nod. "We'll handle this, Professor. Together."

Charles nodded. "Then go. Time is of the essence. And be careful—this mutant may not understand what they've become."

Logan grinned, his usual cocky smirk back in place. "Careful? Chuck, that's my middle name."

Ororo, ever the voice of reason, shot him a side-eye. "I thought it was 'trouble.'"

Logan chuckled. "Depends on the day."

With that, the pair turned to leave, but not before Logan threw one last glance over his shoulder. "You sure you don't need me to bring the kid a teddy bear? Or a Welcome to the X-Men T-shirt? I mean, I could just see them freaking out when they find out they've got enough power to turn the world upside down."

As the door slid shut behind them, Charles turned back to the Cerebro console, his fingers tapping lightly on the controls. Somewhere out there, a mutant was awakening—a power unlike anything they'd ever faced. And the clock was ticking. He only hoped they weren't too late.

The world—along with all of its problems—was holding its breath. So was Charles Xavier.

---

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