Visiting the Anomalies of America

Harry Potter x X-Men (Crossover Fanfiction).

After farewelling the last of his friends, Harry decides to take some time off Britain and travel the world - search for a new purpose. He starts off in America and is soon bored. Being known internationally for all its "abnormalities", Harry decides to seek them out, hoping to make some new friends. Immortal Master of Death AU; Slash

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5. Chapter 4

Harry spent the next day wondering the grounds of the mansion. He had gotten a good night’s sleep and woke up in a good mood; especially considering he got to sleep in. He awoke just before lunch and decided to take a stroll around the grounds to admire the place he was in. The building was surrounded by green and occasionally he would stop to sit down and just do nothing. At the moment, he was approaching a wooden bench that faced the mansion and had its back to the trees. He sat down and leaned back, letting out a long breath and closing his eyes; enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face.

 

Thinking back on the events of yesterday, Harry was quite pleased. The children here were very welcoming. Although he believed that it was because here, they were all accepted for what they were and what they could do, instead of being shunned. It made him feel sorry for them that the reason why they had such an accepting attitude now was because they themselves were not accepted before and now that they were, they want to make sure everyone else would feel the same too.

 

A smile tugged at his lips in satisfaction for his ability to be able to control his magic whilst casting spells non-verbally. Since he had confirmed his status of being ‘Master of Death’, he had quite a hard time accepting it. He recalled having trying many methods to rid himself of the title but always it was all fruitless attempts. The last straw was when he had secluded himself for nearly a year and Hermione had had enough and practically broke down his door in her rage. She had given him the telling-off of his life then with Ron standing meekly behind her, casting him apologetic glances at his wife’s outrage. After that, she had practically pulled him by the ear to accept his fate and not mope. She made him take up many things to try and pass him time and also take his mind off things.

 

Being the ever-optimistic Hermione, she had gushed over the ‘endless things’ that she would’ve done if she was in her place instead of moping around. One of them that had caught his interest was to practice wandless magic. It was quite simple really. He wasn’t sure why nobody had thought of it before. Then again, apart from their resident genius Hermione, the rest of the magical community were pretty dull. When he had asked her how she would go about doing it, she had explained her theory to him.

 

All magical children get a letter from a school of magic at age 11 to begin training to control their powers. Before they began, they would get their necessary equipment. A part of it was – a wand. Sure, in school, every spell they cast relied on their wand; incantation, movement, determination. However, she had said, look back to before a child assumes magical schooling. It is evident for those who were muggle-born to be able to tell of their child’s power whenever something ‘strange’ would occur. Usually, these were the oddest of things that were caused by strong emotions such as anger. Harry himself too recalled having made the glass of a reptile exhibit vanish in a fit of anger towards his cousin; Dudley.

 

So, she had concluded, witches and wizards were capable of doing magic without the use of their wands. The only obstacle was that it relied heavily on the castor’s emotions. She had reasoned that that was possibly why magic was done with a wand as a medium. If they relied on wandless magic which was so heavily affected by their emotions, things could go awry without them meaning to. He had bashfully expressed his interest in looking into the subject to Hermione and she agreed to help him with it.

 

Over the next few years, he practiced it in the confines of a fortified basement in his manor and would occasionally consult Hermione with any problems he had had. He had discovered that, like what he had done when he was 10, he was able to do a number of things that they didn’t have spells for much easier wandlessly. He mastered those sort of actions first – as evident with him closing the door to Professor Xavier’s office yesterday.

 

After that, he had begun to take on spells without a wand. It took him a couple of years to get around focusing his magic appropriately. Hermione had explained to him that even if he pulled it off, the spells he cast without a wand would most definitely be considerably weaker in strength. This was because he was used to using the wand as a medium, and also because the wand provided a focal point in which he could focus his magic and release it with much power. Whereas wandless magic was different as there was no specific output area. He decided that it was easiest to use his hands as his output and spent the first few years training to gather his magic specifically into his hands.

 

After that it wasn’t too hard to cast the spells. Following that, he had approached Hermione about wandless and non-verbal spells. She had raised some brows at that but encouraged him to give it a try anyway. By then, she was already in her late seventies. Controlling those types of spells were disastrous as they discovered the incantation to a spell was very important. However, he managed to get it down.

 

He still practiced whenever he could, because it was evident that his wandless and non-verbal spells were nowhere near the power of casting by wand. He had finally gotten confident with his skills just before Ron had passed away, and he would often visit them and perform them to them, their children and their children’s children as some entertainment. Hermione was very pleased with his progress and although she kept silent, he knew by the look on her face whenever she thought he wasn’t looking that she was happy he wasn’t as bothered by his immortality as before.

 

After Ron had passed away, she had opted to spend more time with him in her final years. They would spend days just relaxing and talking. Her death was probably one of the hardest for him. Normally, he was quite composed during his friends’ funerals. But hers was the only one he had cried at. He had shared many things with her in those last years, and every time she was there to support him and get him through it. He truly owed it to her that he was able to move on as well as he did.

 

One of the things he had asked her – with much trouble – was whether she would mind if he were to ever use the Resurrection Stone to call her. She had thought hard on it and replied that he shouldn’t rely on it too much, but if he felt like he really needed to, he was definitely welcome to call on her. Since her death, he had considered it many times, but never followed it through.

 

The anniversary of her death was approaching, and he was thinking of calling on all of them just to tell them about his trip so far. After all, they were the ones who had prompted him to do it – so he owed it to them to let them know how he was doing.

 

Thinking about all his friends, he rummaged through his pouch and pulled out an old photo, weathered at the edges. It was a photo of all of them, back in their fifth year – they had taken a photo of the whole DA for a commemoration. He spent the next couple of minutes staring at his friends chattering and smiling up at him, as if it was still their fifth year. He didn’t hear the whirr of Xavier’s wheelchair as he approached.

 

                “Hello Harry,” a warm voice called out to him. He jerked in surprise and leapt of the bench, body crouching into a defensive stance on instinct. When he realized who it was, he let out a sigh of relief and straightened up, sitting back down awkwardly and apologising softly. Xavier laughed and waved it off casually. “Miss home?” he guessed, glancing at the picture in Harry’s hand. Harry too glanced at it and smoothed it out carefully.

 

                “Well, not exactly,” he replied, “just reminiscing I guess.” Xavier watched him speculatively.

 

                “May I?” Harry glanced at him and saw his outstretched hand, asking for the photo. Harry gave it a thought before handing it over. Xavier smiled and studied it. His eyes widened as he gazed appreciatively at the photo.

 

                “A moving picture!” he exclaimed delightfully, “how extraordinary.” Harry smiled at the reaction. “Is this something your people have?” Harry nodded.

 

                “Yes, all their photos move. Even those in the papers.” Xavier nodded, looking back at the picture. He saw a group of students in uniform standing in a rather grand yet empty room. He found it peculiar that at the moment of the ‘flash’, none of the students were smiling, although they seemed perfectly happy before it. However, he didn’t ask about it. He also noted that almost every student was holding a stick of sorts in their grasp. Wands? he thought. It was still early on, so maybe he’d make that guess another time as he filed it away in his brain.

 

                “Was this the school you talked about?” he asked, handing the picture back to Harry, who nodded in affirmation. “Do you miss your friends?” Another nod.

 

                “Very much.” Xavier hummed.

 

                “Why did you decide to travel abroad then?” he questioned lightly. “Surely you could have stayed with your friends at home.” He watched with a slightly guilty pang as the shine in Harry’s eyes dimmed a little and he looked down, gaze far away.

 

                “They’re all gone,” was all he said.

 

                “Gone?” Xavier repeated. It probably wasn’t wise to push, but he was very much curious. Was all of these children dead? How had that happened? Was Harry being on the run from something thus causing him to flee here?

 

                “It’s… complicated. But don’t worry, they all died naturally – they weren’t murdered or anything.” Xavier frowned at the confusing response from Harry. He decided to stop there though, before the man closed himself off from him completely.

 

                “Well, I came here to ask you if you had given any more thought to the prospect of you staying at the mansion long-term.” Harry looked surprised; as if truly believing that he had only offered it to him out of politeness.

 

                “Not really actually,” he answered sheepishly. “Do you need to know soon?” he added, not wanting to give them any trouble.

 

                “No,” Xavier reassured him, no doubt knowing what was going through Harry’s overly-polite mind when he asked, “it’s just that if you’d like, you could be enrolled here too.” Harry’s face went blank before shock overtook his features.

 

                “But,” a crease between his brows appeared, “I’m not a mutant.” Xavier merely smiled in response.

 

                “The school is for gifted children, Harry, not just mutants. Anyway, our main aim is to help the children learn to control their powers.” Harry suppressed a smirk rather unsuccessfully. “Although actually,” Xavier continued, “did you not mention that you attended a boarding school back in Scotland?” Harry nodded an affirmative. “Am I right in that it was a school meant for..” he searched for a word, “those like you?”

 

                “That is correct, Professor,” Harry smiled. Xavier’s face seemed to light up in interest which only amused Harry further.

 

                “Oh! How intriguing. You must tell me about this school of yours sometime. I would love to hear about it; if that is alright with you, of course.”

 

                “Of course. But yes, if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking,” Harry said somewhat slowly so as to not confuse himself, “the school did indeed teach us what you’re trying to teach them,” and with a simple flourish of his hand, indicated the large stone building that was the school. Xavier made an understanding face.

 

                “Well then, how about a teaching position?” he asked the boy a little teasingly, knowing he wouldn’t take it up. Harry let out a bark of laughter.

 

                “I’ll think about it,” he replied, surprising Xavier pleasantly. “I did tell you I was a part-time lecturer, didn’t I?” he added mischievously. Xavier laughed warmly and acknowledged that.

 

                “Indeed you did,” he said. Then, as something came to mind, he continued, “if I may, was it at your former school?” Harry gave a small smile with a quirk of his lips and nodded.

 

                “Yes, it’s quite ironic really – me taking the job,” Xavier noted that Harry’s eyes seemed to go a little distant for a short moment as he most likely thought of his home and relived memories. “Quite a notorious job too.” Xavier’s brows went up in interest; no doubt about to ask why. They were interrupted, however,  by a familiar voice calling out Harry’s name. They both turned to see Rogue and her group of friends approaching them.

 

                “Ah, looks like classes have finished for the day,” Xavier noted as he smiled warmly at the students approaching them. Harry too smiled and pushed off the seat to stand and greet them politely. Harry watched with a trained eye as Rogue came up to them excitedly, but stopped short just in front of him. His gaze softened as he smiled at her, and slowly he reached out an arm to wind around her waist in a mock-hug. She seemed to be shocked and tried to pull away slightly but Harry was having none of it and looked as if he didn’t realize it as he pulled her close in as much of an embrace he could.

 

                “How was school?” he asked conversationally as they waited for the others to catch up. She looked up at him, surprise still in her features, before she shot him a sceptical look and laughed.

 

                “Harry, you sound like you’re my dad or something,” Harry flushed a little, having forgotten that the people here treated him like his physical age instead of his true age.

 

                “Right, sorry,” he apologized a little lamely, causing both Rogue to giggle and Xavier to chuckle softly.

 

                “It was alright though. Same old,” Rogue answered his question with a shrug anyway. The rest were almost all there and chattering away with each other, the Professor included. Warren was the last to arrive and Harry noted that he was studying the forestry around them and the wide open space they were in quite raptly. His attention was soon stolen by the Professor speaking to him in a low voice which wouldn’t be heard by the others.

 

                “By the way, I wanted to confirm something with you about your ‘game’, Harry.” Harry nodded to let him know he was listening. “If any one of us were to make a guess at something about you and it was right, you would confirm it, would you not?” Harry’s lips were pulled up fluidly into a sly smile.

 

                “That’s right. It’ll help speed along the process for you, right?” he said flippantly. Xavier nodded and turned his attention back to others, signalling that that was all he had wanted to say. Harry too turned away just in time to see Warren approach him with a bright, if not a little hesitant, smile. Harry called out to him and they grabbed hands in a fond greeting that Harry had seen many young men do in the States. Hermione and Ron’s daughter, who had helped him do some research on countries for his ‘trip’; had aptly named it a ‘man-hug’ – which had caused him to laugh.

 

                “Harry! Um so..” Warren was becoming steadily more unsure in whatever he had had in mind. Harry tilted his head a little as he watched him struggle for words, suppressing a chuckle.

 

                “Yes?” he prodded, deciding to give him a little push. Warren seemed to him like someone who would be very polite to others and try not to get on anyone’s bad side. Probably grew up in an environment where it was better to just do what he was told with no questions asked. To get past that, Harry would need to show him that he was in no way causing him any trouble. Warren’s eyes flicked up to him and back down to the ground.

 

                “I was wondering if you uh, still wanted to.. you know, see my mutation?” another peek up, “of course, you don’t have too. Nah, it really doesn’t make much of a difference. I mean, it’s not as cool as the rest anyways, and I –” Harry’s brows were steadily rising upwards in amusement as a sympathetic look passed his features at the boy’s ramblings.

 

                “Of course I would Warren,” he cut in before the boy ran off or something. “Every one of your powers is unique. I wouldn’t dare to miss out on yours,” he shot Warren, who had looked up then, a reassuring smile. Warren’s eyes brightened at his response such that it caused another thought to come to Harry. Was he one of those mutants that grew up in a home that shunned them because of what they were? He couldn’t help the frown that creased his brows before he snapped out of it at Warren’s expression that showed him worrying that Harry was rethinking his words. “Well? We haven’t got all day,” Harry smirked. Warren stared at him for a moment before shaking his head and stepping back a few paces.

 

                “Stay there,” he held up his hands to motion for Harry to stay. Harry watched in interest and raised brows when Warren began stripping off clothes from his top half. Rogue and the others were all giving off various smirks and comments to one another behind him. Xavier himself was quite happy to see the boy being happy to show off his ‘mutation’. As opposed when he had first come to them. He wheeled himself beside Harry as they watched patiently.

 

Finally, Warren took off the shirt he was wearing as his last layer and Harry’s brows furrowed when he saw taunt leather straps running vertically and horizontally across Warren’s torso. He did, however, roll his eyes when he heard the two girls behind giggling to themselves. Warren tugged on the ends of the straps to undo the clasps and Harry tilted his head when he thought he saw something white peek from behind Warren’s shoulder. His eyes widened and he let out a gasp when the last strap slid off and Warren rolled his shoulders, a pair of magnificent snow-white wings extending from behind him. Unknowingly, Harry’s face split into the biggest smile at the sight, his eyes lighting up as his gaze took in the sight before him.

 

                “This is.. amazing, Warren,” Harry breathed in a hushed tone. Warren, who was watching his reaction, smiled at his words. Then, he blushed a little in embarrassment when his ‘friends’ began whooping and woof-whistling. “Can you..” Harry began to say, reclaiming his attention. “Can you fly with them?” Warren saw something in Harry’s eyes that he couldn’t really identify as he nodded affirmatively. “Brilliant.” Warren flashed another happy smile in response. “Do you fly often?” Harry began to come closer as he continued.

 

                “Yes. I couldn’t really do it before..” he trailed off as his gaze became slightly distant, thinking about his father, “but once I came here, the Professors said that I should exercise using them more often.” Harry nodded, agreeing. Why have such an incredible gift and not make use of it?

 

                “How fast can you go?” Harry had a mischievous glint in his eyes that made Warren a little wary of his intentions.

 

                “I’m not sure exactly, but it’s pretty fast.”

 

                “Show me?”

 

Warren blinked at him for a second before grinning and taking a step back. With a few strokes of his wings, he was launched into the air. He glided for a second before he pushed himself to fly around the perimeter of the school once at full speed, before setting back down gently once more.

 

                “That was absolutely incredible, Warren,” Harry said just as he touched down. Warren rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment at the praise but thanked him.

 

                “Now your turn,” he said with a little more confidence, giving Harry a crooked smile. Harry took a deep breath and crossed his arms, nibbling on his bottom lip as he thought about what to do. All of them watch him with amused expressions as his eyes dart back and forth every time he thinks of another possibility – muttering under his breath all the while. Then, with a snap of his fingers, he speaks.

 

                “I’ve got it!” Everyone laughs a little at his exclamation and Harry begins to rummage through his pouch. He frowns when he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for and mutters something that not even Xavier manages to hear. The next moment, he’s pulling out his hand which was curled into a fist. The others step forward to get a closer look as Harry turns to Warren. He doesn’t immediately open his hand to reveal what he has hidden in it. “Okay, so, it’s a little confusing, but there’s this sport that my friends and I used to play at school,” he begins to explain.

 

                “What’s it called?” Warren asks.

 

                “Uh.. you wouldn’t know it,” Harry says. Warren shoots him a look that says try me. “Quidditch,” Harry says simply. Rolling his eyes at their confused expressions. “Told you you wouldn’t know it.”

 

                “Well, explain it to us then,” Bobby cut in. Harry gave a little wave of his free hand.

 

                “Um, maybe another time. Right now, there’s only one part of the game I want you to focus on,” he raises his closed hand so that it draws everyone’s gazes. “The game involves many different types of players and also different types of balls. The different player positions determined which ball their focus was on.” Harry looked up to see if everyone was following him. They all nodded and he continued, “this, is one of those balls. It flies on its own and the aim of the player assigned to it was to catch it. The team whose player catches it first wins the game.” At everyone’s nod again, he began to uncurl his fingers, revealing the golden snitch. He heard Rogue give a small gasp at the sight of the ball. He smiled, remembering how he himself had said; I like this ball, in his first year.

 

Harry ran his thumb across the cool metal, coercing the snitch into unfurling its own set of wings lazily. He took in everyone’s gaping faces and turned to Warren, smirking indulgently. “So,” he said, getting Warren’s attention. “Want to give it a try?”

 

“What?” Confusion passed Warren’s face as his eyes flickered between Harry’s face and the snitch.

 

“Catching it. Do you want to try to catch it?” Harry repeated.

 

Oh,” said Warren lamely, “sure.” Harry raised a brow.

 

“Don’t be fooled. If you slack off, you’re not going to get it,” he warned, lifting up the snitch between his forefinger and thumb, studying it. “the snitch is, in fact, what decides the game.” Warren’s brows were going up as he took in the sight of the tiny ball, evidently sceptical about it. Then, he quoted Wood, his captain during his first year; “you catch this, the game is over. You catch this, Warren, and you win.”

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