5

Chapter Five: Walking In, Walking Out

Harry's eyes opened slowly. His head throbbed and he was relieved to find that the lights were dimmed. His arms seemed heavy as he maneuvered them to rub his face. The sleepiness was leaving slowly, a sure sign that he'd either been exhausted from partying (it was bound to happen someday, right?) or the more likely reason, that he'd been knocked unconscious. Harry managed to survey the room he was in, sterile and smelling of antiseptic. Well that removed any hopeful notion he might have had that his current condition was the leftover from a night of booze and debauchery. Harry's mind was slowly recalling exactly why he was in the Hospital wing this time. In a moment he remembered.

"Fuck!" he cursed rather loudly. Too loudly, he groaned in annoyance as his head pounded. He couldn't even curse properly about his current predicament. Mind, he wasn't certain whom he was cursing, Fate or himself. Likely the later. He rubbed his head, willing the throbbing to subside.

What had he told himself, what had been the plan. He'd meant to lay low, eat some food, strengthen his admittedly scrambled mind and then leave without any questions. As always, in theory, the plan had been perfect. He'd made a few missteps, but as a whole he'd managed to blend into this mutant world without much attention.

Yes, the plan had been perfect and, as usual, he'd managed the perfect way to bollox it up. It was certainly a skill. He'd known about the limitations of mutation and in the face of trouble that knowledge had just flown out of his head. Perhaps a good thing for the mutants, but not necessarily good for him. He'd have to learn to control this 'saving people thing' that was master over his reactions.

Harry frowned. A rather persistent voice in the back of his head reminded him that Syren could have died if he hadn't interfered, as well as other innocent young mutants. He couldn't really feel that bad about it. He really was a Gryffindor. He could be sly as any Slytherin, but when things went pear shaped he was the quintessential Gryffindor golden-boy. Which was lame, he was really starting to understand this now.

Still, that side of his character wouldn't really help him explain his 'unusual mutation' whispered a mental voice that sounded suspiciously like Severus Snape.

Harry managed to sit up on the comfortable cot he'd been lying on. He leaned back on his pillows. What had he done? Or, to put it better, what could they prove he had done. Two stunning spells which no one, not even Bobby and Pyro, had seen. Legilimency, which could be seen as some sort of telepathic ability. Harry had little doubt that Xavier knew who had sent him the little mental nudge. The summoning charm, but then Jean could do that as well. The healing thing he wasn't as certain about, Wolverine's ability seemed to only work on himself. That wasn't to say that there couldn't be a mutation that worked in that way. Harry cursed, quietly this time, still it looked like he's screwed himself over.

Not that all couldn't be repaired by a reasonable excuse. Perhaps, um, 'Ah healing, I said I could heal so I...', or 'What you can't do that?', and maybe even 'I am a terribly powerful mutant whose power far surpasses your own, bring me offerings of lemon drops and Mars Bars'. He also considered telling the whole truth, but that seemed crazier than his made-up alternatives.

Harry growled in frustration. Maybe it might be better to just disapparate now and avoid the turmoil.

A dark head poked in and looked at Harry with some disinterest.

"I thought you'd be awake," commented Wolverine. He rolled his eyes, "Jean forecasted you'd be asleep for hours yet. I tried to tell her but," Wolverine shrugged. Harry understood perfectly, it simply wasn't worth the effort to try and convince a healer of anything. He pushed a button that made the lighters brighter and Harry blinked. The mutant crossed to a chair and stradled the piece of furniture while he looked at Harry.

"Yeah well, any chance I'll be allowed out since I woke up early" questioned Harry.

"Not a chance," the mutant stated with confidence. "Jean was more than a little worried because she couldn't figure out why exactly you collapsed."

Harry groaned. "Just over exerted myself," Harry waved the implied concern aside.

Wolverine nodded. "I suppose all that stuff would tire someone out. Especially a twerp like you. I nearly got pummeled by all those helmets by the way." The small insult did not disguise the pointed comment about all Harry's 'stuff'.

Harry looked away, "Sorry about that," he answered not really meaning it.

"I should probably go tell the others you're up, they wanted to talk to you."

Harry's slightly panicked look must have given him away. He wasn't ready to confront the adults, he hadn't managed to invent a proper cover yet. "Ummm, yeah do you have to do that now," Harry ignored the gravelly tone his voice took.

Wolverine pulled out a chair and took a seat. "You worried about something?" The blunt question seemed to mask some concern.

Harry shrugged. "I uh...didn't mean to...I mean, well it wasn't like I wanted that to happen." Great, Harry mentally groaned, you've fallen back into muttering nonsensically and looking at your hands. Classic.

"Shit happens," the Canadian mutant said, leaning back in his chair. He was quoting a bumper sticker but Harry didn't know that and nodded at the man as if he'd said something very wise. In fact, from Harry's perspective, it was perhaps the wisest thing he had ever heard.

"Too often," Harry agreed. "Just this place seemed so...nice. You know."

"Sure, but people always hate what's different. Nature I guess."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. He was the different one now. But Wolverine didn't seem to have drawn that connection. The older man was staring at the wall behind Harry with a firm look on his face.

"Suppose it was too good to last," Harry muttered. Wolverine focused on him again. "I mean this place. It was nice to have a place that was just so...nice. Kinda reminded me of somewhere I was once. Where I wasn't a freak," Harry was a little lost in nostalgia as he recalled the early Hogwarts days, the days where he felt safe and welcomed in the old castle.

"Whoever said you were a frea— Okay, I guess we've all heard that, right. Still last night doesn't mean that you're...well. You know, you're still okay." Wolverine's attempt at comfort was rather stilted, but Harry, oddly enough, found some feelings of relief in the few words. He hadn't even realized how worried he had been about being rejected. He frowned wondering when he had he started worrying about being accepted here at Mutant High. It could only ever be temporary. This wasn't his world, in many senses.

"Theresa is very grateful Harry," said a soft voice, breaking Harry out of his thoughts. He looked over to see the Professor framed by the door, his confused expression prompted the Professor to add, "I believe she likes to go by Syren." Wolverine stopped tipping his chair and sat up as the Professor wheeled his way into the room.

"I'll also admit that I'm quite impressed at what you were able to do, yours are certainly gifts that one doesn't see often. At least not together. And your quick thinking and calm mindedness probably saved more than one life." Those probing blue eyes caused Harry to tense reflexively.

The old man smiled trying to ease the boy's fears. He couldn't help but wish that he could access the young man's mind.

"Yeah about that...um, you're probably wondering why I didn't tell you about it." Harry rubbed his forehead, scratching a peculiar lightning bolt shaped scar.

"I assume that it seemed private to you," Xavier said softly.

"I just didn't want to...you know stand out." Harry looked downward into his lap. It wasn't a lie.

"Harry I don't mean to pry, but I am curious about your mutation. We can't help you if we don't know what we're dealing with."

The Professor's words were kind and Harry shifted uncomfortably. He was very aware of the fact that he didn't deserve their help. Not that they could, or that he needed it. He cringed slightly considering his lack of control with the healing charm, okay, so perhaps he wasn't perfect. But this was magic not mutation.

But there was something about Professor's honest concern, his devotion to the young people in his charge, it was hard to admit but it shamed Harry. He had been purposefully cloaked in lies, decieving these good people. He felt like a foul wanker. It was one thing to avoid speaking the truth, it was another thing to lie. 'I must not tell lies.' The phrase invaded his thoughts. But it wasn't this maxim that pushed him over the edge. There was something in the Professor's kind face. It was the sort of face that he wondered how people kept. A face that just seemed good.

"I'm not sure if you'll believe me," Harry said softly. "You'll think it's crazy."

The Professor's eyes crinkled and his lips quirked into a smile. "Why don't you try me, I've heard quite a few interesting stories in my life."

Harry's eyes flickered to Wolverine, but swallowed his concern. "Well...it isn't exactly mutation. It's...well...magic." Harry swallowed the desire to explain about moving between dimensions. Better to see how the Professor handled this idea.

The Professor blinked. He moved a hand to his lip and tapped it thoughtfully. "Harry. Many of the things we can do seem like magic. Indeed many of the first mutants thought it might be something like that. In the early days before we'd discovered things about genetics there was nothing else to fall back on. But now we know that all our abilities are linked to mutations in the genetic structure. While yours may seem a little more...unusual than most, I assure you that there is a explanation behind it."

Harry felt almost like laughing. He'd been honest and they didn't believe him. It was annoying in a way, but Harry couldn't fault the Professor's attitude. After all, he was something 'out of this world'.

"Can mutation do this?" Harry asked. With a twist of the wrist, Harry transfigured his cot into a four-poster, not unlike his own in the Gryffindor dorm, he tucked the blankets tighter around himself and gazed steadily at the two men who were watching with poorly disguised disbelief.

Wolverine tilted his head. "Looks like magic to me, can you make a rabbit come out of a hat?" he asked.

Harry grinned and shrugged, for all he knew he could.

"There must be an explanation..." Xavier shook his head. It wasn't impossible to have a mutation change this...perhaps he could manipulate molecules or effect some sort of transmutation. Still Xavier had never seen such a transformation and factoring in all the other things he'd seen...it was peculiar.

Harry allowed the Professor his confusion. He'd been right to avoid mentioning his presence in this dimension. While he'd felt a strange urge to be honest, he knew that such a level of honesty wouldn't help his case at the moment.

"Harry, I don't mean to pry...but would you mind if we had a sample of your blood to study for genetic traits. Maybe it might explain your unique abilities."

A part of Harry's mind screamed NO! How many times had he been warned that blood could be used in all manner of dark rituals. Still, a more sensible part of Harry's mind understood that perhaps Xavier needed to search for the logical before he was willing to believe the truth. Harry nodded stiffly.

Then he addressed something he'd also thought about in the brief moment where he'd decided to confess to this teacher.

"People don't exactly need to know about this, right?" Harry asked. He was worried about information control, but the Professors change of expression let him know he'd been misunderstood.

The Professor's face half smiled, a somewhat knowing look. "I'll be talking to Jean and your teachers, but I think the students can draw their own conclusions. Although," here the Professor frowned. "You may want to consider speaking with them. This is nothing to be ashamed of. You have a unique gift, one which you have used for the better."

Harry shrugged, allowing the professor his misconception, it was probably the more natural assumption.

"Professor?" he asked in a questioning tone, "About those men, who were they?"

"Not something you need to worry about, you are quite safe from them," The old man said, he tapped his hands gently on the arms of his wheelchair.

That wasn't really an answer Harry noted, "What are you going to do with them?" he asked.

The professor met his gaze for a moment, "We will make certain that they are not a threat to this school and the students in it."

"You'll kill them?" Harry asked bluntly, his tone matter-a-fact.

"Nothing that far," the professor said slowly, his blue eyes watching the young man carefully.

Harry didn't like the expression in those eyes, it had changed from the amused, protective glance from earlier and seemed to hold a sharp edge. Harry didn't know what he had said wrong. Some people needed killing, that was the only way it would end. He'd gotten over his ideals a long time ago. He wasn't a homicidal maniac, but he there were simply times when people didn't deserve second chances. Those people that stormed the school, they were willing to slaughter children. Not that he'd be stepping up to act as executioner, he wasn't planning on introducing the mutants to his 'killing curse mutation' any time soon. But from Harry's point of view he couldn't see the loss of such human beings as too much of a problem. But then maybe the professor could mind wipe them, take away all their memories and drop them off somewhere. Maybe that would be fine too. Either way, he knew Xavier wasn't going to accept his argument. He let the matter pass.

The door opened and Harry expected Jean but oddly enough it was Storm who entered and drew Harry's blood expertly. Most of the teachers at Mutant High had some medical knowledge, particularly in the field of genetics. Not only had they learned it for themselves, but also for the students. Genetic profiling wasn't usual fare for a school nurse, but it was something quite common here. The gene sequencing machines had cost a small fortune, but the help they had given the students was invaluable.

Harry yawned. Storm seemed to notice this and hurried Wolverine out. The man didn't complain much, just looked pensive about what he had seen and heard.

The professor was the last to leave and he dimmed the lights as he left.

"Just, don't expect many answers, Professor. I've never gotten any," commented Harry. He lowered himself onto his new bed and closed his eyes.

The Professor watched the boy as he closed his eyes, nodding even though the gesture couldn't be seen. He sat in his chair for a moment, raising his hands up to dim the lights.

Harry was the only word out of the UK since the Mutant Act had passed, and the information hadn't been promising. He truly hoped they could help this muddled young man, not only for himself, but also because the boy could prove to be a saving grace for his country, one that currently seemed lost. Xavier still fretted over the fate of Britain, how had the nation have fallen so far so fast? Ten years ago he would have considered the UK to be among the most reasoned and accepting of any nation, even more so than the United States. But now...It was almost enough to make you give up hope, almost.

That is if things were as they seemed.

Xavier stared at the door for a moment. The boy was powerful, perhaps too powerful for one his age. Xavier tried to consider possible explanations for the faculty to which he had ended the confrontation. His decisions had been well thought out, logical and saved them a great deal of trouble. It seemed to be the product of much experience, but his knowledge of the English mutant community was rather extensive considering his connection to Thomas Winters, thus it was strange that he hadn't heard of the boy before. So, either Harry Potter was amazingly quick on his feet, or the action wasn't as spontaneous and unplanned as they were led to believe.

The helmets the soldiers had worn already had the Professor considering other motivating sources, despite the fact that the minds he'd explored didn't seem to have any knowledge of Magneto or Eric Lensher. While it was possible that the military could have derived the importance of Magneto's helmet, it was even more likely that they had been given the information from someone. Eric would never target the school under normal circumstances, but Xavier had no way of knowing exactly how ruthless confinement might make his old friend, in their brief visits he had shown no sign of giving up.

And it was impossible not to see Harry as the stereotypical recruit. A young man with great power, one who seemed to have suffered from humanity's cruelty first-hand, and an individual who seemed to hold little belief in the value of life, at least if that life was a considered a threat.

Xavier ran his hand along the skin of his head.

He was jumping at shadows. Not being able to see into this young man's mind was making him feel oddly nervous. He never tried to intrude, but it was habit to know the surface thoughts of almost everyone he met. Suddenly being in the dark was disconcerting. And just moments ago the boy had managed to avoid a rather strong mental compulsion.

A compulsion, different than entering the mind, was something that played off the power of suggestion. It was almost separate from his telepathy, something he had honed over the years and even among other telepaths it was essentially impossible to block. Which was way he used it only rarely and only for the best intentions. He was a little ashamed to have used it now, but he assured himself that it would do no harm. What he had done had been very simple, he had merely been urging Harry to tell the truth, to confide in them. It would be in his best interest to do so.

But the young man seemed somewhat stubborn, he had woven a story about magic. Either the boy was aware of what Xavier was doing and somehow managed to counter it, or he had an amazing strength of will. There was also the chance that perhaps he really did believe it was magic...but even still the boy should have confided everything in him, not just a weak explanation and a magician's trick. Indeed, such a method could lead to people blabbing their most embarrassing secrets. Magneto had found it funny, once, and so had he.

He pushed his chair toward Storm who was writing a label for the blood sample in tiny handwriting. The sample she had taken from Harry would be chilled until Jean got a chance to examine it. Out of the respect, the other teachers only invaded Jean's domain in the case of an emergency.

As of yet, this did not apply.

"What do you think of him," Xavier found himself asking the young weather mutant.

She narrowed her lips, "You seem concerned."

Xavier smiled faintly, she had a way of reading people. "I'd just like if we kept an extra eye on young Mr. Potter, several things are not adding up. And we've been betrayed in the past."

Storm's eyes looked a little chilly, "Surely, Professor, he's just a boy."

Xavier's hand moved out slowly, patting her honey skin in a fatherly manner. "Yes. You're right."

Xavier forced himself to let the matter drop. The young man would tell them his secrets in due time. He couldn't afford to look at Harry the way he had been for the last few moments. The late Senator Kelly had argued that teenage mutants were potential weapons. And, perhaps in a way he was right, but it wouldn't do for the principal of Mutant High to doubt his young charges.

If it were, things were darker than he feared.

As soon as the Professor left Harry opened his eyes. He wasn't really tired enough to sleep, but it had managed to clear the room quickly. He wasn't certain what his blood would show the Professor, but he was certain that it wouldn't be the information that the professor wanted to hear.

Harry stared into the darkened room and questioned himself more throughly than Xavier could have. His motivations were purely selfish, he'd admit it. He wanted to enjoy this simple school just a little longer. The world outside was hard and cold, and he'd now learned to enjoy these pockets of warmth and welcome. Still, did he owe them the truth? He'd let them in on what he was, his magic, but not where he was from. Would it make a difference to them? Harry hazarded to think it wouldn't. These X-men seemed like nice fellows, good souls all. But he simply didn't want to take the risk. He could say that he was merely 'adjusting' Xavier to the information.

He bit his lip and turned over, what it came down to, was that he wanted to stay. Was that so bad? No one was missing him, no one was trying to kill him, at least not him specifically, he had plenty of food and a nice place to live. He even rather...liked the people he was with. What did it hurt? Nothing. Harry resolved to once again put the issue aside. Why had he felt the need to confess to the professor as if he were confessing his sins to a priest? He might be lying but his lies weren't malicious, he wasn't here to hurt anyone, he'd even helped someone.

Somehow the resolution allowed his body to relax. Harry slipped into dreams, dark ones presided over by a monster with red eyes and a high laugh. But when he woke in the morning, he didn't remember them.

Harry followed Storm into an empty wood-paneled room. A few long desks were scattered about and Harry pulled out a chair and took a seat. He'd awoken an hour ago to be met by Storm. Not a bad way to start the morning. She'd announced that Xavier had managed to arrange the aptitude tests for him to take.

"Are you sure you don't want a real breakfast?" Storm had inquired.

Harry chewed the last bit of his Carbo bar and smiled. "No, this is fine. I just really want to get these done."

"Okay," the white haired woman dropped a large stack of test packets on his desk. Harry frowned at the large booklets and the little circle answer cards.

"All this?"

Storm seemed to be enjoying herself. "Yep, See if you can finish a few before lunch time, then you can have a break for a bit before completing the rest. Math, Science, English, History, and the Professor even threw in an IQ test."

"Goodie," Harry replied sarcastically. Was it too late to change his mind about staying?

"Just do your best," encouraged the kind woman, she tussled his hair in a playful way that Harry found annoying.

Harry frowned as he examined the test booklets in front of him. They were the sort where you filled in little bubbles. He skimmed his fingers through them, trying to discern how long it would take. Thankfully these tests seemed to be somewhat abbreviated, he'd be able to get through them hopefully before lunch. Math wouldn't be bad to start with, Merlin knew it would be better than Science or History. Flipping through the page he stumbled along problem one.

1) Differentiate

y 1+ arctan x

2- 3 arctan x

Harry blinked his eyes. He closed them longer and tried to will the problem away, when he opened his eyes these would all make sense. Things like addition, subtraction, maybe some long division. Was this Algebra? He remembered something about Quadratics...maybe?

The next question perhaps...

2) Compute

lim 5x2-8x-13

x2 x2 - 4

Harry groaned. Alright the English test it is, he spoke the language that had to count for something.

Harry was down to his last test, and so far things hadn't gone well. I was very humanizing to realize that, as far as muggles were concerned, he was intellectually lower than an idiot and a moron, landing him in the "special" category. He'd bumbled his way from test to test feeling his spirits sink lower and lower. He'd practically just randomly guessed on the Science portion. He was finishing his last test when Storm entered quietly.

He'd saved the IQ test for last. He'd never taken one but Hermione had, she'd mentioned it once. The number, if he recalled, was better if it was higher. Hermione's had been high, of course, and she'd also mentioned that it was very fun. Once again Harry was reminded that his and Hermione's definition of fun was very different. The test hadn't been terrible, certainly not the humiliation of the previous, but it was silly and seemed to have no clear point by Harry's reasoning.

35) A Pie can be cut into more than seven piece by making four diameter cuts.

True

False

Harry circled the true box and leaned back in relief. When would he need to be cutting a pie anyway? Also how many times you cut it would really depend on the size of the pie. If it were a small individual pot-pie it would be stupid to cut it into eight pieces. While if you needed to have enough pie for twelve people who'd need to slice more anyway. And why would you be counting the slices in the first place.

"Wow, you finished," commented Storm in surprise. Her words managed to stir Harry from his thoughts, thankfully. His brain was feeling like so much mush at the moment.

"Yeah, not hard when you don't know any of the answers," stated Harry.

"I'm sure you did alright," the white haired woman said with a smile. She patted his shoulder in a commiserating manner. Harry did his best to seem upset, rather than just bored.

"On the plus side," Storm said with a grin, "It's lunch time, and I'm sure you could do with some real food. In fact I insist you eat a lot. Nice big helpings of...potatoes, starchy sorts of the foods, and some vegetables, and lean meats...and dairy."

"Jean was upset that I skipped breakfast huh," said Harry with a cheeky grin.

"Yes," complained Storm, her eyes looking heavenward. "She phoned specifically to ask and we were all treated to a lecture on how it is important for you get filling meals with all dietary needs accounted for. So do us a little a favor and get a big plate, okay?"

"Kay," Harry said with a yawn.

"Have you figured out where the cafeteria is yet?" the mutant asked avoiding his lackadaisical attitude.

"I'm sure I'll manage," agreed Harry.

"Well, then I'll go see that these are graded," Storm shuffled through the answer sheets while Harry groaned.

"Don't feel like you have to get them done too quickly," he argued. Proof of his stupidity did not need to come on swift wings.

Still, he consoled himself by thinking that it didn't really matter. Who knew, it may even give him the chance to learn something before returning to the wizarding world.

Harry walked through the hallways of Mutant High, his brain still feeling like pudding. He wasn't paying much attention to where he was walking, luckily the hallways seemed empty. Everyone else must have scurried off to lunch. He passed a few empty classrooms as he walked There weren't many desks inside.

From what Harry could tell, Mutant High had a smaller population than Hogwarts. It was almost as if the lower levels had been dropped off. He supposed that made sense if children didn't learn they were mutants until they reached adolescence. Also, while there were a few international students, Mutant High seemed to cater mostly to Americans. Perhaps there were similar schools abroad. But then if that were true, why had they brought Harry all the way over here? It was rather complicated, of course it also seemed as if this whole mutant thing hadn't been going on for too long. Hogwarts had a history reaching back a thousand years, these mutants seemed much newer. Harry once again wondered how the wizarding world was coping with all this. What sort of tension had it created among the already bigoted purebloods.

Harry sighed. He could certainly wait to stumble back into all that chaos. As much as he loved the wizarding world, he couldn't deny all the problems it had brought to his life. All the burden. Still this was a different world. Were his parents alive, Sirius? Did he perhaps already exist here. That was an eerie thought, there might well be two of him wandering around. And Ron and Hermione, how were they here? A little less scarred, a little less jaded? And he had to wonder about Voldemort, was the old devil still prancing around causing mayhem. This was a new world, things might very well even be switched. Tom Riddle Champion of the Light! Ridiculous, but who was he to say. Harry was beginning to think that the only way his questions would get answers would be if he went back.

But he decided not to think about that now. Lunch time.

The cafeteria would have been easy for anyone to find. It was currently the only place in the mansion that was producing such a volume of noise. Plates clattered, the shrieks of laughter and the yells of students echoed about, all and all it was a place filled with youth. The smell of food, of all kinds, filled the air in an almost magical manner. Harry's stomach growled, perhaps he shouldn't have skipped breakfast.

Harry looked over and spotted Iceman and Pyro settled at the same table as yesterday. He couldn't avoid the small smile that crossed his features when he noticed a seat had been saved for him. Thankfully his seat seemed to be a good distance from Pyro and Kitty who were engaged in some sort of tray battle. Kitty would move her tray forward, only to have it shoved back by Pyro. Both glared and began shouting about how the other was "hogging" the room. Harry honestly didn't want to know what was going on with them, he'd be tempted to call it sexual tension if they weren't such total opposites.

Crossing the room Harry settled into the buffet line, right behind a boy with red hair. He grabbed his own tray and silverware, examining what was available. He had to hand it to Mutant High, there always seemed to be plenty of food. He reached out to grab a sandwich, accidently bumping the boy in front of him.

"Sorry about that," Harry stated easily. The boy turned in his direction and nodded, then stopped dead. Harry waited for him to continue moving but the boy seemed frozen.

"Umm, are you okay?" Harry asked.

The red haired boy said nothing, then jostled the boy next to him. "It's him," the redhead said in a hissing voice.

Harry swallowed.

It wasn't long before everyone in the food line was turning to get a look at Harry, whispered conversations broke out. Others just remained silent, staring with agape expressions. Harry closed his eyes and drew a breath. It wasn't as if it were anything new. Still he couldn't deny that this was a part of his life he'd gladly left on another world. Harry managed to grab a little more food before crossing to his seat. There was a time where he might have stumbled, tripped or walked with an ashamed hunched back. It was how he'd been raised after all. But now he knew it didn't help. So instead he held his head high and bore their excitement with clear eyes and steady hands.

"Hey," Harry greeted plopping into the open seat at Iceman and Pyro's table.

"Uh, hey man. Where were you all morning?" asked Bobby, his grin a very obvious attempt at ignoring the stares around the room that were now pointed in their direction.

"Oh, placement tests." Harry rolled his eyes and bit into his sandwich. "Lousy all round."

"Ahh you can't have done that bad," Rogue said warmly. Her gloved hand patted his shoulder. Harry rather liked when she did that, there were a few other places she could pat too. Really she wasn't bad looking.

"Like anyone would care about what kind of scores he gets," Pryo said. "We're mutants."

"Hey that doesn't mean we can't...well it doesn't mean we..." Kitty trailed off with a shrug. She did however take the opportunity to shove Pyro's tray off the table.

"I WAS STILL EATING THAT!" shouted Pyro with more intensity than it was worth. Kitty wriggled her nose at him.

"I hate to admit it but I agree with Pyro," Rogue said with a shrug.

"Ah Ha! See I'm right. What were you agreeing with me about again?" The others broke into laughter as Pyro offered a sly grin.

"I mean its not like grades matter much, thanks to that Employment Notification bill we're all likely to be pumping gas or working at McDonald's. That is if they'd stoop to hiring us."

"Or running from the police," Harry added with a grin. Rogue sent him a conspiratorial glance in return.

"The Notification bill hasn't passed yet," argued Bobby with some hope in his voice.

"What is it?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"A new bill that's in the House now, if passed, it will require that all mutants notify their employers of their mutation, employers can even have employees take blood tests. One of many new laws that could be passed if some of those stupid interest groups get their way," Rogue explained with a shake of her head.

"Running from the cops indeed," Pyro said with a nod.

"Here's to flouting idiotic authority," Rogue said raising her glass. A few others raised their glasses as well, chuckling with a gloomy tinge.

Harry laughed as well. He worried for the sake of these mutants. In England their people were already being tossed in jail and cut up like science experiments. He couldn't believe the hate that was consuming this world. He'd never thought his home country to be so bigoted. He'd always seen more problems with prejudice in the Wizarding world, he'd considered the muggle society to be more modern, enlightened. It seemed hate found a way into the public psyche either way. A sad development.

Harry looked around at the people in the room. Normal conversation had returned, those mutants who met his gaze smiled in his direction. One younger boy even gave him a thumbs up. Harry couldn't help but wonder why people would want to hate mutants. This world, this place, it all seemed so nice. Why would anyone so actively pursue war and destruction? Defense was one thing...but sometimes defense could be taken too far. Now that which sought to protect was only propelling a killing machine.

"Um, where is Syren?" Harry asked. He'd only just noticed that she wasn't at her usual spot beside Colossus. His throat tightened...what if he'd done something wrong. Why did he ever think he was a healer?

"Oh she's okay," Rogue quickly stated. "Whatever you eh...whatever you did sure seemed to help her."

"But Dr. Gray sort of lost consciousness not long after you did. She came back in a few minutes but I guess the professor wanted to make sure they were okay. Cyclops took them both to the hospital in Mt Kisco," added Kitty.

Harry gazed toward the table where the professors usually sat, indeed both Cyclops and Jean were still missing as well. He hoped it wasn't for something more serious.

"She called and said she's okay," Colossus said. He looked over at Harry and nodded his head.

"Oh you've heard from them, you didn't mention that!?" Kitty exclaimed. She leaned closer to the large man.

"You didn't ask," was his only reply.

"You know there is a limit to how stoic a guy should be," moaned Kitty. "You could have said it and saved us all the worry."

"Sorry." Colossus took another bit of his sandwich.

"Well now that you've survived all your tests, you gonna be joining us for class?" Bobby asked.

"Um...I don't know." Harry shrugged and ate his own food.

"I wouldn't, they can't have graded that shit yet, you should escape while you still can. School, school, learning, learning...its like that is all they want you to do around here." Pyro bemoaned his fate, then he stole Kitty's dessert to comfort himself.

"It is a school," Bobby mentioned.

"You Thief!" the enraged Kitty shouted. Pyro deftly evaded her attempt to reclaim the cookie he had pilfered. Everyone else merely turned away and continued eating, it would have been more strange if Pyro and Kitty weren't fighting at lunchtime.

"Hey, I'm just training for later in life," defended Pryo.

Kitty flipped her hair in an annoyed manner. "Your life sure, but some of us are actually gonna make something of ourselves. I'm already applying to MIT!"

"Yeah sure sure, and when they find out you're a mutant with a pink nail polish fetish you'll be out, of course it's the nail polish that is really gonna be the kicker Being a mutant will have nothing to do with it, sure." Pyro's voice was filled with cynicism as he spoke. Harry thought he caught a glint of flame in the young man's eyes.

The table was silent. The truth had once again reared its head, and they all suddenly felt the snap of doors closing. No matter how good they were, some doors would always be closed to them. It was enough to piss anyone off.

"I won't believe it!" Kitty said with a waver of conviction. She slammed her tray for a moment and got to her feet, leaving them all to watch her back as she walked away.

The silence held on a little longer while Pyro grumbled about being right.

"So what are you gonna do?" Bobby asked Harry.

"About classes?" Harry asked. Bobby nodded. "Well Storm didn't say anything for today, and I'm not really in the mood. Anyone else fancy skiving with me?"

Bobby choked on his food. "You aren't serious, do you know what they do if you skip out on class," the ice mutant shuddered.

"Er...what?" Harry asked curiously.

"It's too horrible to mention, I couldn't sleep for a week," Pyro voice became eerie as he too shuddered in fear.

"What do they do?" Harry asked again. He wasn't certain how much he should believe their act.

"Two words Harry, two words...Bathroom Duty! The people at this school are pigs, you won't believe what was jammed down the toilet." Bobby collapsed onto the table, a disgusted expression still on his face.

"Well, maybe ya'll shouldn't have skipped to go to that lame movie," advised Rogue sagely.

Harry laughed as the pair glared at Rogue. Harry decided to tune them out as the boys embarked on another installment of why 'the comic book had been amazing' and 'how were they to know that the movie would suck', and wasn't it 'just like Hollywood to corrupt something so beautiful and pure'.

Harry finished eating and when the others got up to leave he followed them out. The halls were crowded now, filled with teenagers scrambling around to get to class. Harry's pace was much more relaxed, he slid through ignoring any amazed looks in his direction. He spotted Storm up ahead and bid a quick farewell to the others. He didn't quite feel like catching up with the weather mutant. He had a feeling she wasn't the type to just let him miss out on a day of learning. Still, he thought he was playing the role of student well enough, particularly as this all wouldn't matter after a bit.

Harry escaped the mansion and cut across the grounds. Just as Mutant High was smaller than Hogwarts, so too were the grounds. There were a few things that he did miss after this world jump. Everything here was very organized. The Mutants seemed to rule by science and reason, magic had it's own rules it's own improbabilities. Did he miss it enough to go back? And what about looking for his family and Sirius of this world. That was one of the reasons he'd come right? He took a seat beneath an elm. Harry tried to pull himself out of these thoughts. It was pointless. He wasn't a Hermione sort of person. He didn't make lists of pros and cons and then choose the most logical. He couldn't make decisions that way. Every choice he'd ever made had been based more on intuition. He'd go with whatever felt right, sitting and moaning about it wouldn't help.

"So, enjoying the sunshine?" a gruff voice inquired.

Harry squinted as he looked upward, "I guess so, getting some fresh air and all that."

"Suppose you didn't get much in that compound place." Wolverine plopped down onto the grass beside him. The man was dressed in torn blue jeans and a stained white T-shirt. Harry shook his head, and the man wondered why people couldn't picture him as a professor of a prep school?

"Not bad as far as prisons go," Harry said with a cynical grin.

"Suppose not, and I guess that magic stuff of yours must have come in handy."

Harry shrugged, "Not really...they watched me pretty closely, didn't want to give them any reason to shoot me full of drugs."

Wolverine nodded. "So you got to think about it to make it work, it doesn't just happen?"

"Yeah, well most of the time."

Wolverine shook his head, "Well, I'll hand it to you bub, you sure got a way of sparking the Professor's interest. His big brain will be trying to solve that puzzle."

"Why do I get the feeling you're jealous?" Harry teased. Wolverine smacked his head in a playful gesture.

"I thought you were all into school, wanted to finish your education or something. Why are you out here?" Wolverine pried, overlooking Harry's comment.

An unusually astute question, even if the mutant didn't know it. Why was he here? "Yeah well, sure I guess." Harry weakly evaded lacking enthusiasm. Wolverine cocked an eyebrow.

"Kids," grunted the Canadian.

"You're telling me that when you were my age you were some studious bookworm?" Harry shook his head trying to picture the surly mutant ever being interested in school. But the man stayed silent, and Harry chose not to pry.

"Anyway," Harry said leaning up against the tree, letting his back crack, "I figure I know everything I'm gonna need to survive." Harry stared ahead for a moment, his lips twisting into a grim expression.

"Maybe not everything," Wolverine interrupted. "Come on."

The older man rose and Harry found himself following, more out of curiosity than anything. Wolverine didn't seem like the type to take people under his wing, yet there was something caring and protective about the fierce man.

The two men entered a garage, the air smelt of oil and gasoline. Harry blinked in surprise as he saw several shiny, expensive cars lined up like pickets in a fence. Yeah, he wasn't feeling at all guilty for taking their money now. How in the world would they need all these flashy cars?

But Wolverine avoided the automobiles. Harry continued to follow him, letting his eyes take in the various models present. In his teen years he'd spent more time drooling over expensive broomsticks than muggle transportation. Still, even with his limited knowledge he knew that there were cars here that some men would kill for.

"Here's something, ever try to ride one of these. If you're gonna live in this world, it is certainly a must."

Harry's looked over, his smile widening. A few motorcycles stood gleaming in a corner of the garage. He had to admit, ever since learning about Sirius's bike he'd had an odd fascination with motorcycles.

Harry listened intently as Wolverine gave a quick overview of how to operate a motorcycle. And while the man gave a good grounding, Harry had the distinct feeling that Wolverine's motorcycle instruction didn't really account for safety.

"Countersteering, all you do is push further on the handlebar, like turning the bike in the opposite direction. The bike will lean at a bigger angle."

"How do you know how hard to push?" Harry asked.

"Aw doesn't matter, if you push too hard you'll just crash out, ride it out."

Harry found himself, once agin, thinking that there was a valid reason that Wolverine was not an instructor.

"Ready for a ride, you'll never know till you try." Wolverine cocked his eyebrow, looking at the still too skinny boy.

"Eh, sure." Harry agreed.

"Just got to get the keys." Wolverine pulled a small blade from his pocket as he crossed to a cabinet with a padlock. Harry watched as Wolverine used the hunting knife to pry the door open. Harry grimaced as he watched the knife slicing into the mutants hand as he jiggled the blade more. However with a crunch and a pop the cabinet opened and Wolverine snagged two sets of keys from inside.

He tossed a pair to Harry, "They sure seem to worry about things here. No beers, everything is locked," the man shook his head as he spoke.

"Imagine, what a surprise," replied Harry.

"Don't get smart," Wolverine tossed a set of keys to Harry. Harry noted that once again the man's hand was without a mark.

Harry looked at the keychain, "Eh these say 'Exclusive Property of Cyclops'," commented Harry.

"Yeah, he seems to like bikes, must think they make him look 'cool'. It's an uphill battle I'm sure," Wolverine chuckled darkly. "I figure he won't mind us borrowing them for a bit."

"If you say so," Harry answered with a grin, "Of course I'm just a student listening to my teacher."

"Smart ass," declared Wolverine as he revved his engines. Harry did likewise and soon the pair of them were racing out of the garage, the sound of their twin engines echoing about the room.

Bursting into the sunlight, Harry suddenly knew why Sirius had loved his bike. This was freedom. The way the wind moved through his hair, the steady rumble of power beneath him. Magic could get you anywhere in a second, but this seemed more real. He could almost feel the ground as he zipped by, as if the tires were an extension on his body. Wolverine hadn't mentioned helmets and Harry was glad. This was great, almost like flying. Wolverine raced ahead and Harry hurried to follow, soon the pair were slicing along winding forest roads. Harry's actions never nearly as precise, but he managed to stay on so he figured it was good enough. The speed didn't allow for much sightseeing, but just the feeling, so much like flying, was enough to put Harry in a better mood than he'd been in a long time. Ahead Wolverine reversed his bike and came to a stop. Harry's stop was less graceful, but all the same he couldn't stop smiling. He'd almost forgotten what real freedom tasted like.

"What do you think," Wolverine asked.

Harry just nodded his head, no words were needed.

"Well, we better part ways here, we're over 20 miles to the school, you've got a ride back," Wolverine said with a nod.

"Huh?" Harry asked.

"Got a little recon mission up northward, don't have to watch you brats tonight. And you better hurry back if you want to avoid Cyclops seeing you with his bike."

Harry growled, "You dirty cheat, you're supposed to take the blame for this."

"Well not tonight anyway." Wolverine nodded his head in a cocky manner.

Harry grinned. "So what sort of reconnaissance are you planning?" he asked casually.

"Just a little trip the Professor wants to send me on. Some place up North, figure I don't want to walk into anything I want to walk out of. Keep your options open kid, that is what I say."

"So you don't always just storm into a place, eh?" Harry commented thinking back to Wolverine's actions at the mutant-proof facility.

"Depends," the man said with a grin.

Wolverine's engine roared to life and Harry found himself watching as the mutant tore down the road at speeds that greatly exceeded the legal limits. The man's words had gotten caught in his brain.

Don't just walk into something you may want to walk out of? Not a bad idea. It certainly had its merits. Harry tended to charge into things. It was how he got from day to day. How he'd landed in this world. But maybe a little change couldn't hurt. Especially as it might not be easy to walk out of where he needed to go. More subversion was required. Not his skill, but he doubted it was Wolverine's either. He had a little recon of his own.

And as usual Harry's problems solved themselves in a flash of inspiration. His solutions weren't always the best, but he'd move ahead either way. He could follow a plan till its end. But now Wolverine had vanished in the distance. Harry brought his own motorcycle to life. As he sped down the empty roads, an impish idea filling his head. Mutant High was relatively isolated, surrounded in a dense wood. With a tap of his hand the wheels seemed to loose their grip on the land and rose into the sky. Harry was careful not to rise above the trees, still he closed his eyes. Wish you were here, Sirius, Harry thought as he cut through the crisp air.

Mystique was not pleased. She'd spent another night in the forests surrounding Xavier's school. It had been another night wasted as far as she could see. In Magneto's coded letters he'd expressed his desire that she keep a close watch on Xavier's school, that something was bound to happen, and that she could pick up and aid any mutants who came her way. She knew Magneto had a plan, he wouldn't have sent her to these godforsaken, insect infested woods if he didn't have a purpose. But her patience was growing thin. She'd rather be back at Capital Hill impersonating Senator Kelly. Her excuse of a 'fishing trip' had raised a few eyebrows when the known workaholic had taken a few days off. If she wanted to maintain that idenity she would need to return soon, a few more days max.

Looking around her current position with a slight frown she wished she knew the reason she was here. Her particular abilities weren't useful in this current position. Even after Liberty Island, when the police were still swarming all over the city, she hadn't been forced to these lows. As, indeed, she was better camouflaged in a crowd. Still, she'd wait a little longer before reverting back to her previous mission: find a means of escape for Magneto. She'd discovered his location quite easily. Somehow Xavier had managed to acquire visiting privileges. Mystique wasn't certain how. Perhaps he'd used his mental ability or called upon the wealth of contacts at his disposal. It hadn't mattered, he wasn't a man that was difficult to loose track off. But knowledge of her mentor's location wasn't the problem. The problem was difficult but no insurmountable.

Sadly being cast aside in this hellish place had given her a great deal of time to think. She was gazing out of the forest, once again wondering how all their beautiful plans had managed to go afoul. Unexpected problems had arose, who would have guessed that Wolverine would be such a problem. She certainly hadn't. She rubbed her abdomen, siding across the spot where his claws had sunk into her. He was powerful, she just hadn't been able to see it. Perhaps that was why Magneto wanted her to watch now, so that no other new arrivals might cause such havoc.

A flash of metal high in the sky caught her by surprise. Her head turned as she tried to locate the motion. There. Her eyes locked on the object, her head leaning back in surprise. A boy, a boy was flying a motorcycle through the trees. She could only see his shaggy black hair and thin build as he whipped though the air, heading towards Xavier's school.

An interesting development. Who was this newcomer? Well, whoever he was, she wouldn't misjudge him.

The lights had been off for two hours when Harry slowly rose from his bed. He'd been lying in the dark trying to discern if his roommates had fallen asleep. Neither seemed to possess Ron's steady snore, hence he wasn't sure. Still, time was wasting, he'd only have a few hours to determine the status of the magical world before he would be missed. He fumbled in the dark room for his clothes.

He'd set them right by his feet so they'd be easy to find. Yet, it took him a moment to find the clothes. He was just pulling up the zipper to his pullover when a voice startled him.

"Harry? What are you doing?" It was Bobby, his curious voice penetrated the darkness.

"Nothing, go back to sleep," Harry urged. He tugged on his trainers, hoping the ice mutant would take his advice.

A light switched on, Harry blinked in the sudden light. "Where are you going?" Bobby asked again.

"Nowhere, just..." Harry looked up and caught his roommates concerned gaze. "Look I've just got to check something out, I'll be back by morning." Harry smiled and nodded his head.

Bobby shook his head, "I'll come with you," he offered.

"No really. I'll be fine." Harry again tried to persuade the boy to let him be.

"Yeah, sure but that doesn't mean we don't want in on this." Harry's head jerked as Pyro's voice joined the argument.

Harry grumbled in his head. He'd already wasted a few hours waiting for his roommates to be asleep, if he wanted to do this tonight it might be better to take them with him. It would be much better to give them the slip later rather than create problems now.

Also, he had this vague idea that he could trust them. It was a strange idea. Last year he'd been so distanced from Ron and Hermione he'd fallen out of the idea of having someone he could trust. They had always been the only people he had such faith in. The responsibilities of the war and his role in it had separated them. Now he'd put a world between them. It was all better that way, some paths had to be walked alone.

But this wasn't one of them.

"Alright," Harry allowed with a smile.

Both boys cheered quietly, each reaching under their own beds to find clothes and shoes.

"So, where are we going," Pryo finally got around to asking. "I certainly hope you have something more exciting in mind than a trip to the bathroom."

"You could say that," Harry replied. Harry rose and opened the door to their dorm room, both of the young men following.

"So where are we going?" Pryo asked again.

"London," Harry answered simply.

Bobby coughed, "You mean like the one in England?"

A/N: Thanks to the reviewers' efforts, I worked to get this chapter out. Hope you enjoy it. I really liked all the comments, some of you are really thinking.

My apologizes for the terrible format of the calculus math questions, I fiddled for a bit to achieve even this level of inaccuracy in format, I think you'll get the gist. Any Mathematicians out there will have to let me know if it is even slightly close. I'm with Harry on this one. So, shrugs, what can you do eh?

Also to my great surprise, this fic has been nominated for a Quibbler Award. Never heard of a Quibbler, neither had I. But the name inspires me, I'm sure it will do great things. If you'd like to check out their site, maybe find some good fics to read, I've got the website here in a bastardized form so this website we are currently on will allow it to show. . I have no idea when they are voting, etc, so if you're curious you can look there. The presidential race is the vote I'm worried about. Hope you readers over 18 are registered.