Chapter 3

The classroom was alive with the steady hum of concentration as the students eagerly delved into the day's lesson. Sunlight spilled through the tall windows, bathing the room in a soft glow. The scent of old books and chalk mingled with the excitement of discovery that always filled Charles Xavier's classes at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters.

Charles Xavier himself was in the midst of an animated explanation about genetic mutations. His passion for the subject was contagious, holding most of the students in thrall. However, at the back of the room, one boy seemed far away.

Harry Potter, now ten years old, was physically present, his gaze focused on the blackboard. But mentally, he was galaxies away. His emerald eyes were distant, his mind lost in the sprawling cosmos.

Harry had a unique bond with the cosmos. It was a connection born from the mysterious cosmic entities that had saved his life when he was just a baby. It allowed him to wander through the universe in a way that no one else could, his consciousness reaching out to distant galaxies and celestial bodies.

Amid the infinite wonders of the universe, Harry's mind always found itself returning to one planet in particular. Its allure was inexplicable, a mysterious pull that drew him in time and again.

"Harry," Charles's voice called out, bringing him back from his cosmic reverie. His eyes snapped back to the classroom, focusing on his professor's warm smile.

"Sorry, Professor," Harry said, a little embarrassed. He was used to his mind wandering, but he hated to disrupt the class.

Charles waved away his apology with a chuckle. "Your mind has always been capable of amazing things, Harry," he said. "Just remember to keep one foot on the ground while you're reaching for the stars."

With a nod, Harry refocused his attention on the lesson at hand. His cosmic explorations could wait until later. For now, he was just a boy in a classroom, trying to understand the complex world around him. But always in the back of his mind, the pull of that mysterious planet was waiting, a cosmic mystery waiting to be explored.

Charles turned back to the blackboard, resuming his animated lecture. As he delved into the intricate layers of human mutation, he would occasionally throw out questions to his students, challenging them to engage with the subject matter. His deep, resonant voice filled the classroom with energy and enthusiasm.

"Who can tell me," Charles asked, sweeping his gaze across the room, "the primary difference between spontaneous mutations and induced mutations?"

Hands shot up around the room, students eager to prove their understanding. But Charles had other plans. His eyes landed on Harry, his smile gentle but challenging. "How about you, Harry?"

Harry's green eyes widened a bit in surprise. The sudden question had interrupted his lingering thoughts on the mysterious planet. He had to quickly bring himself back to the realm of DNA and mutations, grounding himself in the classroom's reality.

He cleared his throat, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "Well, spontaneous mutations occur naturally," he began, his voice gaining confidence as he went on. "They're random alterations in our genetic code that happen as cells divide and replicate."

A nod from Charles encouraged him to continue.

"And induced mutations," Harry went on, "are changes in the DNA that are caused by external factors. Like, say, radiation or chemicals."

Charles clapped his hands together in approval, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Exactly, Harry! Well done," he praised.

As the class moved on to their next subject, Harry felt a soft poke on his shoulder. Turning around, he found Kitty Pryde looking at him with an intrigued expression. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she lowered her voice, speaking only loud enough for him to hear.

"Harry, what's it like?" Kitty asked, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and wonder.

He smiled gently, having been asked this question more than a few times. It wasn't just Kitty; many at the school were curious about his unique abilities. But Kitty had been one of his closest friends since he arrived, and their bond allowed for these more intimate questions.

"You mean the cosmos?" Harry clarified, already knowing the answer.

Kitty nodded eagerly, her eyes wide. "Yes! I mean, I've asked you a thousand times now, but... I just can't even imagine it."

Harry paused, gazing out the window as he searched for the right words. How did one explain something so vast, so beautiful and terrifying, so inexplicably mysterious?

"It's... overwhelming," he began, looking back at Kitty. "It's not just the sheer size of it all. It's the sense of... being part of something far larger than yourself."

He paused again, trying to put his experiences into words. "It's like... you know when you're at the top of a mountain or standing by the sea? And you just... feel small in comparison? It's that, but magnified a thousand times over."

Harry chuckled a bit, looking down at his hands. "And the stars... They're not just white dots on a black canvas. They're fiery and vibrant, bursting with energy and life. Some are so massive that they could swallow a hundred of our suns, while others are no bigger than a city. And the colors, Kitty... The colors are like nothing you've ever seen. Red giants, white dwarfs, blue supergiants... They're all out there, painting the canvas of the cosmos."

Kitty was silent for a moment, her eyes wide as she took in his words. Then, a soft smile spread across her face, her gaze filled with admiration. "Wow," she whispered, "just... wow. It sounds... incredible, Harry."

Harry's narration change in tone, growing distant and dreamy. "There's a planet... different from the rest," he whispered. His eyes, usually bright with a lively green, began to emit a low, cosmic glow. The room, filled with the fascinated and apprehensive gaze of his classmates, grew dimmer, chillier, as though the vast emptiness of space had descended upon them.

"There's... a hunger there," Harry continued, his voice barely a whisper now. His words painted a picture of a celestial being, impossibly vast, and hauntingly lonely. "An eternal hunger, a void that can't be filled, a shadow that darkens the stars..."

His classmates listened with rapt attention, the image of this strange planet, and the entity Harry described, held them captive. It was like hearing a myth being spun, a story of cosmic beings and endless voids, beautifully terrifying in its implications.

Charles, realizing the intensity of Harry's trance-like state, quickly tried to intervene. "Harry," he called, trying to reach the boy with his mind. "Harry, you need to pull back now."

Harry, however, seemed far away, his consciousness pulled towards this far-off celestial entity. His voice drifted, the words becoming mere whispers, until they stopped altogether. His green eyes opened wide in terror, the cosmic glow extinguishing abruptly.

And then, he collapsed, unconscious, onto the floor.

As Harry regained consciousness, he found himself gazing into a pair of stern, green eyes. Jean Grey was standing over him, her fiery red hair forming a vibrant halo around her head. Her features softened as he groaned, the throbbing ache in his skull making it difficult to focus.

"Harry James Potter," she started, her tone a curious mix of relief and reprimand. "We've talked about this countless times. You cannot allow your thoughts to wander so deeply, especially without guidance."

Harry blinked, processing her words through the fog clouding his mind. He felt her cool hand squeeze his own, her touch grounding him, a beacon amidst the storm.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Jean," he mumbled, his voice hoarse. He had not intended for things to spiral out of control.

"You gave us quite a scare, Harry," Jean confessed, her voice lowering to a more compassionate register. "Your vitals plummeted, we... we feared the worst."

Harry winced, the weight of her words settling heavy in his chest. "I didn't mean to... it just pulled me in. I didn't intend to drift so far."

Jean sighed, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Harry," she started softly, "you need to understand, you're not just a boy with powers anymore. This isn't just about your safety, but those around you. The powers you possess are beyond our comprehension, and unchecked, they could bring about devastation."Silence settled between them, her words echoing in his mind. A promise to do better formed in Harry's mind. Not just for himself, but for his friends, his family... for everyone who was part of his life now.

Seeing the crestfallen expression on Harry's face, Jean's stern exterior softened. She gave him an empathetic smile before gingerly wrapping her arms around him. Harry was surprised at first, but he leaned into the hug, allowing the warmth of her embrace to comfort him.

"Harry," Jean said, her voice a gentle whisper, "I know that we all get a little carried away sometimes, showing off our powers and pushing our boundaries. It's a natural part of learning and growing. But, as someone who has also walked this path, I can tell you that there's a great responsibility that comes with our abilities. And especially with you, Harry. Your powers, they're... extraordinary."

Harry could hear the unspoken awe in her voice, an awe he himself shared. He was a cosmic entity now, his powers beyond anything they could've imagined. But he was still learning, still trying to understand.

"We've only scratched the surface of your potential," Jean continued, her voice soft yet firm. "And with that potential comes a great responsibility, Harry. We have to ensure that we can control our powers, not the other way around. Because if left unchecked, they could cause harm, not just to us but to the ones we care about."

Harry nodded against her shoulder, a silent vow forming in his heart. He'd be more careful, he'd learn to control his powers better. He owed that to himself, and to everyone else around him.

Jean pulled back, her hands on Harry's shoulders as she gave him a comforting smile. "Just remember, Harry," she said, "you're not alone in this. We're here to help you, to guide you."

"You gave us quite a scare, Harry," Charles said, maneuvering his wheelchair to sit beside Harry's bed. His gaze, filled with a mix of reassurance and seriousness, met Harry's.

Harry shifted uncomfortably, his cheeks tinged with guilt. "I...I didn't mean to, Professor."

"I know," Charles replied, nodding his understanding. "I've seen in your mind, felt your curiosity. It's not a bad thing, Harry. Curiosity fuels learning. However, in our case, we must also be cautious. There are corners of the cosmos best left undisturbed."

Charles' tone wasn't one of reproach, but rather of gentle guidance. His hand reached out, resting on Harry's shoulder, a touch of paternal comfort.

"But..." Harry began, his voice wavering slightly. "What is it, Professor? What is this entity that I... sensed? It felt like a force of nature."

Charles leaned back in his wheelchair, his eyes thoughtful. "I'm not entirely sure, Harry. But the importance is not in what it is, but in how you handle such a situation in the future. You're incredibly powerful, more than you might realize, and your interaction with such beings might lead to consequences beyond our comprehension."

"Understand, Harry, your power is a gift, but also a responsibility," Charles added, his gaze stern yet sympathetic. "And we will work together to ensure you can handle it safely. It's a journey, not a race."

Before Harry could respond, the door to the med bay burst open with a force that made both him and Charles startle. In stormed Scott, his ruby-red visor gleaming ominously under the fluorescent lights. He strode with purpose and a frown, his features a reflection of his worry that had been concealed until now.

"Where is he?" Scott barked, his gaze sweeping the room until it landed on Harry.

The room's air seemed to thicken with tension, the contrast between Scott's agitated state and the calm Charles had been trying to cultivate was striking. Harry felt a jolt of surprise, followed by a twinge of guilt.

He barely had time to react before Scott was at his bedside, looking down at him with a mix of relief and sternness. "Do you have any idea how worried we've been? You can't just go gallivanting through the cosmos in your mind without proper preparation, Harry."

Charles, though visibly taken aback by Scott's outburst, didn't miss a beat. "Scott," he intervened calmly, "let's remember to handle this with patience."

Scott took a deep breath, looking down at Harry again, this time with softened features. "He's right, Harry. We're not angry... just concerned. You're part of this team, this family. When one of us stumbles, we all feel it."

Charles, his expression thoughtful, added, "This isn't about blame, Harry. It's about understanding. You're... unique, even among us. Your powers have a depth and a breadth we're still trying to comprehend. And until we do, we must exercise caution."

Harry swallowed hard, looking between the three adults. The weight of his abilities had never felt so heavy. His mind was a gate to the cosmos, and he was the gatekeeper. The responsibility of that was more daunting than any exam.

"I understand," he said finally, his voice small but sincere. "I didn't mean to scare anyone... I'll... I'll be more careful."

Charles nodded approvingly at Harry's response, a light smile tugging at his lips. "Good, Harry. We're all learning here, after all," he said warmly. His gaze became contemplative, the hint of a playful twinkle lighting up his eyes.

Charles' gaze turned somewhat melancholic at the thought, but there was a firm resolve underlying it. "Harry, your time at Xavier's was always meant to be a chapter, not the entire story," he said, looking at the young boy with a mix of pride and sadness.

Harry tilted his head, looking up at Charles with wide, curious eyes. "What do you mean, Professor?"

Charles sighed, wheeling himself closer to Harry's bedside. "You know, Harry, that you're unique, even among us," he said gently. "Your powers, your potential... they're not just mutant abilities. There's a part of you that's deeply connected to the world of magic."

Harry's forehead creased into a frown, but he nodded slowly, knowing what Charles was referring to. He had grown up with stories of his parents, their lives as wizards and witches, their tragic demise. He knew he had a part in that world, but he had never truly felt it. Not until he came to Xavier's.

"Yes, I know... I'm a wizard," Harry confirmed, his gaze steady on Charles. "But why bring it up now?"

Scott, who had been quietly observing next to Jean, chose that moment to step in. "Because, Harry," he said, a grin playing on his lips, "it's time for you to take the next step. You've received your Hogwarts letter."

Harry's eyes widened at that, his heart rate spiking. "Hogwarts..." he breathed out, the word feeling foreign yet familiar on his tongue. He had heard so much about it, about the world his parents came from, but he had never really thought he would be a part of it.

Jean reached out to place a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, her smile soft. "It's a big step, Harry," she said gently. "But remember, Hogwarts is just another chapter. We're not closing the book."

Harry swallowed hard, taking a moment to process everything. His time at Xavier's had been the best years of his life. He had learned to somewhat control his abilities, made friends who were just like him, and, for the first time, felt like he belonged. The thought of leaving was daunting, but the chance to learn about his parents' world, his own magical heritage, was too big to pass up.

Jean laughed, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, don't remind me!" she chuckled, her hand squeezing Harry's shoulder affectionately. "You were what, five? Six? And Scott was given the task to get you ready for bed."

Scott scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest but a smile tugged at his lips. "Yeah, well, no one told me the kid could do magic without a wand. One moment he's there, all covered in mud and refusing to take a bath, the next—poof!—he's gone."

Jean grinned, nudging Scott lightly. "We searched the entire mansion, remember? Even checked the Danger Room. The Professor had to assure us you hadn't accidentally teleported yourself to another state."

Charles nodded, a fond smile on his face. "Indeed, Harry's... early experiments with his abilities were quite the learning experience for all of us."

Harry blushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah... sorry about that," he mumbled, recalling the chaos he'd unwittingly caused.

Jean shook her head, her smile gentle. "Don't apologize, Harry. You were just a child discovering his powers. It's part of the process. We're all different after all. Our abilities don't always manifest in the most... conventional ways."

Harry smiled, feeling a wave of warmth wash over him. He was grateful for his time at Xavier's, for the family he'd found in these people. And as much as the thought of leaving scared him, he knew that it was the next step he needed to take.

"Or remember that time you pranked Sirius?" Jean began, the corners of her mouth curling up into a grin as she addressed Harry..

"You'd shape-shifted into Charles," she reminisced, turning to Harry, "I mean, the mimicry was perfect, Harry! From Charles' clothes to his wheelchair, even the way he spoke."

"And don't forget his expressions, Jean," Scott chimed in, chuckling. "I mean, Sirius was completely convinced! You even managed to boss him around for half the day before he realized!"

Charles, who had been quietly watching the exchange, allowed a small chuckle to escape his lips. "Indeed. Quite the performance, Harry. I do think Sirius was about ready to turn himself in for a full examination at the medical bay when he found out."

The memory caused laughter to ripple through the room, softening the earlier tension. Amid the jesting and reminiscing, Harry felt a warmth in his chest - a sense of belonging, of home. This was his family, their shared experiences were their bond, and in this moment, it was stronger than ever.

"Harry," Charles's voice turned serious, causing the laughter in the room to gradually die down. "Can I speak with you for a moment?"

Jean, Scott, exchanged looks. The sudden shift in atmosphere was palpable. They gave Charles and Harry nods of acknowledgement before exiting the room, leaving the two of them alone. Harry looked up at Charles, the unasked question evident in his green eyes.

Charles wheeled himself closer to Harry, positioning himself to be at eye level with the boy. He rested a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry," he began, his voice gentle yet firm, "you know, I care about you. We all do. You are part of our family."

Harry nodded, his gaze never leaving Charles. He felt a lump in his throat but remained silent, urging Charles to continue.

"What happened today," Charles continued, his eyes full of concern, "it was... startling. Your powers, Harry, they are unlike anything we have ever seen. The connection you have to the cosmos... It's unprecedented. But it is also dangerous. You saw today how things can go wrong."

Harry swallowed, his eyes downcast. He remembered the fear in his classmates' eyes when he'd lost control. He remembered the panic that had washed over him, the disorientation. He remembered the rush of power that had coursed through his veins, heady and terrifying all at once.

"Professor," Harry said after a moment, his voice barely a whisper, "I... I didn't mean to... I didn't mean to scare anyone."

"I know, Harry," Charles reassured him, his hand giving Harry's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "But that's why it's crucial we understand your powers. We need to help you learn control. We need to be prepared."

Harry looked back at Charles, his eyes full of determination. "What do I need to do?"

Charles gave Harry a small smile, appreciating the boy's willingness to learn. "We start training, Harry. More intensely, more purposefully. Your powers, they are a gift. But they are also a responsibility. And we have to be prepared for whatever comes next. We don't know what the future holds... but we can be ready for it."

The words hung heavy in the air, hinting at an uncertain future filled with challenges. But it also promised growth, strength, and unity. Harry nodded at Charles, the gravity of his words settling in his heart.

Charles leaned back, observing Harry for a moment, before continuing, "For this, I have a plan in mind, Harry." His voice was firm, underscored by a tone of deep thoughtfulness. "The journey to control is twofold. To understand your mind, I'll help you. We will work together on exercises, sessions where you can learn to navigate your own psyche. It won't be easy, but it's necessary."

Harry nodded, his mind reeling but his heart full of determination. He was ready for this. Ready to learn, ready to grow.

Charles offered a reassuring smile, seeing the commitment in Harry's eyes. "Good. Now, the second part of our plan involves Jean and Scott and a few of the other X-men. They will help train you in offensive maneuvers and defenses. This is equally important. Your powers can be used to protect and defend, and in some cases, to attack when necessary. But it should always be controlled, always intentional."

Harry's gaze hardened, understanding the gravity of the responsibility that lay on his young shoulders. He nodded, murmuring, "I understand, Professor."

Charles nodded in return, satisfied. "It's going to be a long journey, Harry. There may be bumps along the road, hurdles you may not expect. But remember, we are all here to support you, and together, we can help you navigate this path."

Charles patted Harry's shoulder gently, their eyes meeting in a silent pact. There was a softness in Charles' gaze, a promise that despite the challenges, he would be there for Harry.

"Professor, when are we starting this training?" Harry's question broke the poignant silence between them.

Charles gave him a reassuring smile, patting his shoulder once more. "After your birthday, Harry. You should enjoy your special day without any worries. After all, turning eleven is a big milestone."

A sense of anticipation bubbled up inside Harry, a mix of nervousness and excitement. He was eager to start, to learn and grow, yet there was a part of him that felt slightly overwhelmed. However, the mere thought of his upcoming birthday was enough to ease some of his concerns.

"Harry," Charles began, turning his attention back to the young boy. "Scott and Ororo have a mission they need to embark on. They need to help a couple of mutants who are on the run."

Harry's curiosity piqued, his eyes widened slightly. "Who are they?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Charles, however, simply shook his head and smiled. "I'm afraid I can't reveal that to you, Harry. It's important that we respect their privacy. They're in a difficult situation and it's our duty to help them without causing any unnecessary distress."

Harry nodded, understanding the importance of discretion. He might have been young, but he understood that there were certain things that even he wasn't privy to know. Despite his curiosity, he respected Charles' decision and the importance of maintaining the privacy of these mutants in need.

"Are they in trouble, Professor?" Harry asked, his brows furrowing with worry. His heart ached for the unknown mutants, even though he didn't know who they were.

Charles smiled, a soft, warm smile that conveyed pride and admiration. It was clear to him that Harry possessed a heart filled with compassion and empathy. He was always concerned about the well-being of others, often prioritizing it over his own.

"Yes, Harry, they are," Charles responded gently, his voice softening as he addressed Harry's concern. "But you don't need to worry about them. Scott and Ororo are more than capable of helping them. They are experienced, skilled, and know how to handle such situations."

Harry nodded, but the worry was still visible in his eyes. He trusted Scott and Ororo, but the knowledge of someone being in trouble, anyone at all, unsettled him.

Seeing the unrest in Harry's eyes, Charles continued, "We are all part of a big family, Harry. One that extends beyond this school. We help our own, in any way we can. These mutants, whoever they may be, are part of that family. And as such, we will do everything in our power to ensure their safety."

This seemed to lessen Harry's anxiety somewhat. He understood the importance Charles placed on their eclectic, expansive family. He knew Charles would spare no effort to defend it. "Is this what Erik wanted?" Harry asked.

Charles smiled, not without a hint of sadness. "Erik has always had a strong sense of protecting his own. But his methods... they can be extreme. He's lost sight of some important things along the way. But in his heart, yes, he wanted what was best for mutants. For our family. We just... disagreed on how to achieve it."

This seemed to soothe Harry's worry, at least a bit. He knew how much Charles valued their big, diverse family. How he would do anything to protect it.

A distant memory started to take form in Harry's mind, casting a shadow over his bright emerald eyes as he was transported back to that day.

On that particular day, the usually tranquil aura of Charles' office had been replaced with a palpable tension. Eager to discuss a peculiar celestial phenomena he had noticed during his astral explorations, Harry was making his way towards Charles's sanctuary when he inadvertently collided with a solid figure exiting the door.

Standing tall with an air of understated authority was the man known as Magneto, Erik Lehnsherr. His hair, like a brushed steel helmet, framed a face that was as formidable as it was compelling. Erik's piercing gaze, carrying a life-time's worth of battles fought and hardships endured, met Harry's. The tacit acknowledgment between them was swift and silent, like an unspoken pledge of mutual respect. In Erik, Harry saw a mirror of sorts - a reflection of the unique life he himself was leading.

Erik, ever the silent sentinel, regarded Harry with a keen, appraising eye, his silence more eloquent than a plethora of words. To Harry, still a green sapling grappling with his formidable powers, the interaction was a revelation, leaving an indelible imprint on his impressionable mind.

Despite the tension hanging heavy in the air, Erik took a moment to address Harry. His words, a blend of enigma and wisdom, offered advice that would resonate with Harry for years to come.

"Your gifts," Erik had imparted in his resonant, husky voice, "are not to be trifled with. They're yours and yours alone. Don't let anyone else define their boundaries."

Even as Harry sat with Charles now, in the same office where he had encountered Erik, he found his mind winding back to that day. Erik's words echoed in his thoughts, the profundity they carried lending him renewed perspective on his own power.

"Professor," Harry started, his voice laced with curiosity, "will Erik ever return? I mean, to the school?"

Charles looked at Harry, the fondness evident in his eyes. His gaze was momentarily distant, as though navigating the corridors of a time long past.

"Once, long ago, Erik and I... we shared a dream," he began, his words painting a tableau of bygone times. "A dream where mutants and humans coexisted, where we were not feared but understood. We worked side by side, not just as colleagues but as brothers."

A bittersweet smile touched his lips as he continued, "Erik is a powerful mutant, Harry. But more than that, he is a complex man. His experiences have shaped him, just as ours shape us. But those experiences... they've also driven a wedge between his vision of the world and mine."

Harry was silent, drinking in Charles's words. He felt a pang of sadness for the estranged friendship that had once been a beacon of hope for mutantkind.

"But to answer your question, Harry," Charles finally said, "I don't know. Erik chooses his own path. And though I may not agree with his methods, I respect his freedom to choose. All we can do is hope... hope that one day he will see the world as we do. And perhaps then... yes, he might return."

The words hung in the air, filling the room with a strange mix of nostalgia and anticipation. It was a prospect that filled Harry's heart with an odd sense of expectation. Erik's enigmatic persona had intrigued him, and the thought of him possibly returning was one that sparked both curiosity and hope.

"Rest up now, Harry. Tomorrow is another day," Charles said, giving Harry's shoulder a reassuring squeeze before leaving the room. Harry watched as the professor's wheelchair rolled out of the room, the door closing quietly behind him.

Days turned into weeks, and before Harry knew it, his birthday was nearly upon him. The day before his eleventh birthday found him sitting under a tree in the grounds of the Xavier Institute, Kitty Pryde and Piotr Rasputin - or Colossus, as he was known in his metal form - flanking him on either side.

"You must be excited, Harry," Kitty said, her pixie-like face bright with curiosity. "Tomorrow's your big day!"

Harry smiled, his green eyes shining with a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Yeah, it is. Eleven... I can't believe it."

"Well, you're not just any eleven-year-old," Piotr chuckled, his thick Russian accent lending a warmth to his voice. His metal skin glinted in the sunlight as he added, "You're one of us, after all."

Harry looked at them both, gratitude welling up within him. "I know," he said. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

The three friends sat in companionable silence for a while, each lost in their thoughts. For Harry, the past few months had been a whirlwind of learning, understanding and accepting his place in this new world of magic and mutants. And as his birthday approached, so did the realization that he was about to embark on yet another adventure - this time, at Hogwarts.

"I wonder what Hogwarts will be like," he mused aloud.

Kitty and Piotr exchanged glances. They were both X-Men, but neither had been to Hogwarts. Still, they knew it was an important part of Harry's journey.

"You'll have to tell us all about it when you get back," Kitty said, nudging him lightly with her elbow.

Harry nodded, a quiet determination settling in his gaze. "I will. I'll tell you everything."

As the sun began to set, the three friends continued to talk, sharing stories, hopes, and laughter.

"Harry, let see if you can project again?" Piotr asked, his steel-blue eyes reflecting a kind of respectful curiosity. He seemed almost reluctant to disrupt the moment, but the ever-present drive for growth and improvement prevailed.

Kitty rolled her eyes, her tone dripping with fond exasperation. "Boys," she sighed, "always looking to show off."

Harry, however, smiled. He liked these tests. They pushed his limits and helped him understand his potential. They were learning experiences, a way for him to harness his powers.

"What did you have in mind, Piotr?" Harry asked, looking at his friend with interest.

Piotr, visibly pleased, pointed at a fallen tree branch some distance away. "Could you project your energy at that branch?" He asked.

Harry nodded, squaring his shoulders. He extended his right hand, his palm facing the branch. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, a shimmering wave of energy began to form in his hand. The air around him crackled with energy, tiny sparks dancing around his fingers.

The energy wave grew larger, brighter, pulsing in tandem with Harry's focused breathing. Then, with a swift forward motion, Harry launched the energy at the branch. The projectile, a mass of pure, condensed energy, shot towards the branch and collided with it, causing the wood to splinter and fracture in a spray of shards.

Exhaustion washed over Harry almost immediately after. His legs wobbled, and he nearly collapsed. But Piotr was there in an instant, his strong metal arms supporting Harry.

"That was impressive, Harry," Piotr praised, his eyes wide with admiration. "But remember, you must conserve your energy. You're still learning, and such power can drain you."

Harry nodded, the edges of his vision blurring. "Thanks, Piotr," he mumbled, his strength ebbing.

Kitty, seeing his state, admonished Piotr, "Alright, big guy, enough with the tests for today." She turned her attention to Harry, concern etching her features. "You alright, Harry?"

Harry managed a small nod, fatigue painting his features pale. "Yeah... just need to rest a bit," he said. He knew he'd pushed his limits a bit, but it was all a part of learning.

The discovery of this new facet of his abilities wasn't something he'd shared with Charles or Jean. Instead, it remained a secret known only to him and his two close friends, Piotr and Kitty and couple of other students. Harry felt a strange sense of comfort in this, a fragment of his life that he'd held onto himself, away from the discerning eyes of his mentors.

That day by the lake, when his hand had sent forth a beam of pure energy, was etched into his mind. The shock and fascination were his own private memories, not tainted by the analysis of his teachers. It was an uncontrolled burst of power, something he hadn't attempted again out of fear and a lingering sense of self-preservation.

However, Piotr and Kitty knew about his new ability. It was during one of their usual friendly scuffles that Harry had accidentally released a pulse of energy, surprising them both. After the initial shock, they'd taken it in stride, becoming his secret keepers, always eager to see his progress.

The strain of projecting energy was evident, but the thrill and satisfaction that came with the exertion were worth it for Harry. With every passing day, his control over the energy improved, the fear of his new power slowly fading into the background.

Kitty, casting a glance at the setting sun, nudged Harry gently. "We better head in for dinner, or else Jean will have our heads." She winked at him and Piotr, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Race ya," she added, pushing off from her spot on the grass and darting towards the mansion.

"Hey, no fair!" Harry called out after her, a burst of laughter escaping him. His body was still humming from the exertion of his energy projection, but the lingering fatigue was quickly replaced by competitive excitement. "No powers!" He added, rising to his feet and taking off after her.

As the race towards the mansion progressed, Harry found himself lagging behind Piotr and Kitty. He watched as Kitty phased through a line of trees, an unfair shortcut, but he couldn't help laughing. Piotr, a fair bit slower, was nonetheless barreling forward with a fierce determination that was as heartwarming as it was humorous.

A sudden urge overtook Harry - the desire to feel the wind rush past his face, to be first for once. He knew he shouldn't, knew it would overexert him after the energy projection stunt, but he couldn't resist. He took a deep breath, focusing his mind and, with a playful wink to Piotr, he lifted off the ground.

It was a sensation unlike any other, the manipulation of dimensional forces allowing him to defy gravity. His laughter rang out, pure and bright as he flew past Piotr and Kitty, his hair fluttering. The world blurred past him, the exhilaration flooding his senses making him feel invincible.

But, as the mansion neared, Harry realized he was going too fast. His heart pounded in his chest, his breaths coming in short gasps as he struggled to slow his speed. But it was too late. With a deafening crash, Harry collided with the wall of the mansion, creating an explosion of dust and debris.

For a moment, everything was silent, save for the echoing reverberation of the impact. Then, Piotr and Kitty skidded to a halt, their faces painted with concern and shock as they stared at the cloud of dust that Harry had disappeared into. His reckless fun had ended in an unanticipated crash, a reminder of the control he still had to master over his powerful abilities.

The cloud of dust slowly began to dissipate, revealing a large hole in the wall and a very sheepish Harry. He stood amidst the rubble, a little dusty, but unscathed. His clothes were tattered from the impact, and his hair even more unruly than usual, but his eyes twinkled with an unmistakable glint of mirth.

"Harry, are you alright?" Kitty called out, rushing to his side, her worry evident on her face. Piotr trailed behind her, his steel-like form now back to his normal flesh and blood self.

From the other side of the now nonexistent wall, a roar of laughter erupted. Sirius Black, clad in his casual wizarding attire, leaned against the remains of the wall, his eyes crinkling with amusement. His laughter echoed through the hall, a heartening sound amidst the chaos.

On the other hand, Charles Xavier and Jean Grey stood beside Sirius, a stark contrast with their concerned expressions. Charles wheeled closer, his brows knitted together as he looked at Harry, a mix of relief and worry flashing in his eyes. Jean crossed her arms, her telepathic aura radiating around her as she gave Harry a stern look, though it was somewhat softened by the relief in her eyes.

"Harry James Potter!" Jean chided, her voice carrying across the broken hall. "What did we tell you about overexerting yourself?"

Charles sighed, shaking his head. "Indeed, Harry. You have to remember your limits. Your abilities are vast, but you must learn to control them responsibly."

In the background, Sirius' laughter had started to subside, but a broad grin still adorned his face. "I must admit, Prongslet," he said, grinning at the sight of his godson standing amidst the debris. "You certainly know how to make an entrance."

Despite the stern admonishments, there was an underlying sense of relief, a sense of camaraderie and shared resilience that was stronger than any wall Harry could break. His powers were extraordinary, but it was moments like these that reminded them all – Harry was still a young boy, full of spirit and mischief, with an entire world of possibilities ahead of him.

"Sirius!" Harry beamed.

Sirius crossed the pile of rubble in a few large strides, grinning widely as he swept Harry up into a warm hug. Harry was now laughing too, the seriousness of the situation seemingly forgotten in the face of Sirius's infectious cheer. With a flick of his wand, the wall began to rebuild itself, the bricks flying back into place as if time was reversing.

As the laughter began to subside, Sirius set Harry back down, looking at him with an intense, serious gaze. His smile faded, replaced by an expression that was stern, but not unkind.

"Harry," he said quietly, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic gravity. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

All the amusement in Harry's expression washed away, replaced with a seriousness to match Sirius's. His green eyes met Sirius's blue ones, an understanding passing between them. Harry knew he had pushed his powers too far, he knew he had disregarded his mentor's teachings for a moment of fun.

"I'm sorry, Sirius," he finally said, his voice steady. "I didn't mean to... I won't do it again."

"Righttt '' Sirius joked, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "I know, Harry," he said. "Just remember, your powers are a part of you, but they don't define you. And with great power... well, you know the rest."

Harry nodded, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Comes great responsibility. I remember."

Sirius laughed again, ruffling Harry's hair. "That's my boy," he said. "Now, let's get cleaned up and head to dinner. I think you've had enough excitement for one day."

As they walked towards the dining hall, the events of the day weighing on them, Harry couldn't help but reflect on his powers. He knew he had much to learn, but with the support of his new family, he was ready for the challenges ahead. As the smell of dinner filled the halls, Harry's smile broadened. Tomorrow would be his birthday, the start of a new chapter in his life.

The sun had barely begun to peak over the horizon, casting a soft golden light over the sprawling grounds of the school, when Harry was roused from his sleep. He blinked his eyes open, taking in the early morning light filtering through his window, and then he remembered. Today was his birthday.

A feeling of excitement bubbled up inside him. He knew the X-Men didn't make a big fuss over birthdays, but there was something about turning eleven that made Harry's heart race a little faster. It was the year he'd finally be able to attend Hogwarts. The year he would officially start his journey as a wizard.

As he got out of bed, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. His dark hair was a mess as usual, his green eyes sparkling with anticipation, and there on his forehead, the lightning bolt scar was faintly visible. A reminder of the past, of the events that had brought him here.

He changed into fresh clothes and made his way down the corridor, his mind lost in thoughts of the day ahead. As he reached the dining hall, the tantalizing smell of breakfast hit him. His friends and mentors were already seated, chattering away, but the moment they noticed Harry, a chorus of "Happy Birthday!" filled the room.

"Happy Birthday, Harry!" Charles Xavier greeted him with a warm smile. Next to him, Sirius Black was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Had any fun dreams last night, Harry?"

Scott Summers clapped him on the back. "Eleven already, huh? You're growing up fast, kid." Jean Grey echoed the sentiment, her warm smile making Harry's heart swell.

The gifts were piled high on a table near the window, casting long shadows as the morning light streamed in. There were gifts of all shapes and sizes, some wrapped in glossy paper, some in parchment. One gift in particular stood out - a large box wrapped in bright purple paper, a note stuck on top with the words "DO NOT OPEN UNTIL EVERYONE IS HERE!" written in bold, capital letters. Harry could only guess who that was from.

As Harry approached the table, the chatter in the room quietened down, all eyes turning to him with anticipation. Jean was the first to hand him a gift, a small box wrapped in silver paper. "Happy Birthday, Harry," she said, her smile warm and genuine.

Harry carefully opened the gift, revealing a beautiful pendant. It was a polished piece of obsidian set into a silver frame, the stone catching the light and throwing out dark, rainbow hues. "It's beautiful, Jean," Harry said, looking up at her with grateful eyes. Jean merely smiled, helping him put it on.

Next came a gift from Kitty and Piotr, a sketchpad and a set of pencils. Harry flipped open the sketchpad to see a detailed pencil sketch of the Xavier's School grounds, the lines detailed and precise, the shading giving it a sense of depth and realism. "Piotr did the sketch," Kitty said, a teasing glint in her eyes. Piotr just shrugged, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Sirius's gift was next. Harry unwrapped it to reveal a top-of-the-line broomstick, a Nimbus 2001. Sirius was practically beaming. "For your Quidditch matches at Hogwarts, Harry. You're going to be the best seeker they've ever seen."

Harry's eyes widened at the sight of the sleek, gleaming broomstick in his hands. He looked up at Sirius, his eyes twinkling with delight, a wide grin stretching across his face.

"Sirius, it's... it's brilliant," he managed to say, barely above a whisper. He had never owned a broom of his own, and this was one of the best on the market. He was simply overwhelmed.

Sirius beamed at him, his chest puffing up with pride. "Only the best for you, kiddo."

"But I already can fly," Harry teased, earning a hearty laugh from Sirius. His words also set off a round of chuckles and snickers from everyone else in the room.

"That you can, Harry. But trust me, there's something about flying on a broom that's a different kind of thrill," Sirius countered, a nostalgic look in his eyes. "Wait till you're zooming around the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. You'll love it."

Harry nodded, his heart pounding with excitement at the thought of his upcoming adventures at Hogwarts.

Then came the gift from Charles. It was a small, ancient-looking book titled "The Mind's Eye: A Guide to Mental Mastery". Harry knew this wasn't just a book. It was a token of trust, of the faith Charles had in him.

Each gift was unique, representing the individual's connection with Harry. They were not just objects but tokens of love, of acceptance. As he looked around at the gathered faces, Harry felt a rush of gratitude.

Finally, Harry turned his attention to the large purple box. The note stuck on it had everyone's signature, a clear sign that this was a joint effort. The room fell silent as Harry moved toward the box, the air thick with anticipation.

With all eyes on him, Harry slowly began to unwrap the box. The paper fell away to reveal a wooden chest, intricately carved with various symbols - some Harry recognized as magical runes, others were unfamiliar, likely mutant insignia.

A hush fell over the room as Harry slowly lifted the lid. Inside, nestled on a bed of dark velvet, was a cloak. It shimmered in the room's light, the material reflecting colors that seemed impossible. One moment it was deep, midnight blue; the next it sparkled like a star-filled sky.

Jean stepped forward, carefully lifting the cloak out of the chest. "This is a special gift, Harry," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "We all pitched in to make it. It's a protection cloak. The fabric is interwoven with magical and mutant protection spells. It will keep you safe, whether you're at Hogwarts or in the middle of a battle."

As Jean draped the cloak over Harry's shoulders, he stood frozen, the weight of the gift and the sentiment behind it pressing heavily upon him. A sudden wave of emotion welled up inside him, threatening to overflow. But in typical Harry fashion, he reigned it in, swallowed it down, his lips pressed into a tight line.

The room fell into a respectful silence, as if everyone present could sense the battle raging within him, the struggle to maintain composure. The tenderness of the moment hung in the air, wrapping around everyone like a warm, comforting blanket.

Harry finally looked up, his emerald eyes glittering with unshed tears, a soft smile gracing his lips. His gaze moved over the faces gathered around him, each one holding a unique blend of affection, respect, and a hint of protective worry. But what touched him the most was the overwhelming sense of acceptance and love that radiated from each individual.

He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. The words 'thank you' seemed too small, too inadequate to express the profound gratitude he was feeling. But he said them anyway, because they were the only words he had.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice almost drowned out by the pounding of his heart. His gaze landed on each person, lingering for a second longer as he silently conveyed his heartfelt appreciation.

He caught Charles's eye, who gave him an understanding nod, his face soft with a paternal warmth. "Happy birthday, Harry," he reiterated, his voice echoing the sentiments of the room.

A sense of belonging filled Harry then, a warmth spreading through him, replacing the overwhelming emotions with a calming peace. He had a family here, people who cared for him, loved him. And as he stood there, surrounded by his friends who were more like family, Harry realized that this was one of the best birthdays he had ever had.

The faint scent of vanilla still clung to the air, remnants of the birthday candles he'd blown out just hours ago. He stared blankly at the unmade bed, the excitement of the day slowly ebbing away, replaced by a sense of somber reflection. Each gift was a reminder of the love that surrounded him, each one carefully chosen to bring him joy. But it was a joy that felt distant now, as if obscured by a nebula of complex emotions.

As he finally laid down on his bed, his mind churned with questions and speculations. But instead of giving in to the tidal wave of uncertainty, Harry chose to focus on the gentle rhythm of his breath, the comforting scent of his room, the reassuring presence of his gifts.

Harry concentrated, allowing his consciousness to project itself back to a place where he liked to watch people live their daily lives. She was still there, the auburn curls of her hair catching the golden sunlight, her bright blue eyes mirroring the clear sky above. She was laughing, her voice as sweet as the rustling leaves carried by the wind. There was a lightness about her, a natural grace that only served to highlight her youthful vibrancy.

Beside her was another figure, a boy slightly taller than her. His hair was the color of snow, a stark contrast against the green complexion of the surroundings. His eyes were a cool grey, and while they held a serious, almost protective gaze as they watched over the girl, a trace of affection softened their intensity. Harry couldn't shake off the feeling that they were siblings.

As Harry's projected self moved closer, the girl suddenly froze, her laughter fading. Her blue eyes locked onto his, widening with a mix of surprise and curiosity. The boy turned to follow her gaze, his brows furrowing when he found nothing.

Harry felt a pang of something he couldn't quite place. Fear? Anxiety? A sense of being known? His heart pounded in his chest, his breathing quickening. But there was also a warmth spreading in his chest, a strange sense of familiarity. It felt as though he knew her, or she knew him. As if some invisible thread was connecting them across the vast expanse of the planet.

Suddenly, Harry was yanked back to his body, lying on his bed at Xavier's School. His heart was pounding in his chest, his body slick with cold sweat. He closed his eyes, steadying his breath as he tried to process what just happened.

He had connected with the girl. She had seen him. There was a bond there, undeniable and strong. But why? And who was she? His mind spun with questions, each one spawning a dozen more. But, Harry decided he wouldn't tell anyone about this, not yet. He needed to understand more. He needed to figure out what this connection was, who she was, and what it all meant.