Kapitel 408: 4
Chapter Four: Burn it to the Ground
Eric Lensher sat in his plastic prison and was in a rather sour mood. His current lodgings weren't what upset him, although the food wasn't great. No, what really irritated him was how slow escape was coming, that would create insurmountable problems. Not that he doubted he'd escape. One drop of metal here or there, one day it'd slip through and he'd be out. But what would be happening in the mean time. Sadly Sabertooth and Toad had been killed at Liberty Island, Mystique in her cleverness had slipped away. That left his list of associates down to one. A rather pitiful number to start a war with, even with all of Mystique's uses.
Life was, after all, rather like a chess board. Or rather it was like a rigged chessboard. In chess there were rules. Each player started out with only so many pawns, knights, rooks, queens etc. If you lost a few pieces due to poor planning it was our own fault, you'd have to play with what was left to you. But as he'd said, life was rigged. His pieces had been rapidly diminished at that Liberty Island mess. And as if to grind salt in the wound, while he was locked away here Charles was in position to snatch up any powerful pieces he wanted. Cerebro made tracking and identifying mutants easy for the telapath and the man's wonderful safe little school provided him the perfect place to implant his ideals of equality and love of mankind.
He admired Charles his idealism, perhaps he'd enjoy it even more if it wasn't going to get them all killed. If history had taught them anything, mankind would always strike against what was different. And in the end history was only a story of winners and losers. The winners continuing on, spreading their progeny, and the losers being trampled in the mud. There was no history of people embracing differences, seeing how such differences could benefit them all. Mankind would never change.
Thus this vexing problem. Charles was probably, even now, filling those mutant heads with silly bedtime stories. Magneto, when he escaped, would have to start from scratch. A virtual battle of attrition trying to track down usable young mutants and turning them to his side, Charles and his people always standing as another option, them and their school. Eric frowned, thinking of all those children inside, Charles there with his pretty lies. Such a waste.
All he needed was to present a plausible wriggle of doubt in their young minds.
Ever since he had been captured, Magneto had been interviewed by various governmental departments, each trying to gain some of the information he contained. Such information would no doubt be a boon for whomever claimed it. And it was somewhat tempting to think of mentioning the mutant school to the right parties. Action would surely be taken. While this new president might be 'tolerant' not all the members of his military were. Some wouldn't hesitate to use force against what they considered a target.
He lay upon his bed, his eyes staring up through his clear wall. A plan was forming in his mind.
One that had little potential to harm him...not if certain precautions weren't taken. It was also a risk, and one that shouldn't be taken lightly. If actions were handled well it had the potential to benefit him. But information could have a long life. While he wanted to educate the mutants at Xavier's school, he wasn't willing to sacrifice the school in the process.
What he needed of course, was an idiot.
Some of the gun waving anti-mutant groups would be excellent. Sadly he didn't have contact with any of them at the moment, and while he was able to make some contact with Mystique, his correspondence was screened and he could hardy include such a complicated plan in the few lines his code allowed. His few vague directions had been difficult enough to manage. He needed a more handy idiot. One of his uniformed visitors would be perfect. But which one?
Eric Lensher lay on his bed, eyes closed, making a list of his regular visitors. Ranking them in order of their usefulness. At the same time he focused on what to tell and what to keep secret. His eyes still closed, Eric Lensher smiled. Even here, in this plastic bubble, Magneto still had the power to influence the world.
"Wakey, Wakey Lensher," growled a gruff voice.
"If it isn't Colonel Forrester," Magneto greeted warmly. How fortunate that the man at the top of his list would be the first visitor of the day. Magneto sat up and managed to look very solemn. "Colonel I've had a change of heart, I'd be delighted to help my country after all."
Time for the opening move. Be it a King's Gambit or a Ruy Lopez, the game was about to begin
It was a sunny morning, the weather had predicted chance of storms. But once agin it seems that the only one capable of controlling the weather was— well now that Harry thought about Storm could do that couldn't she. Either way, the sun had been up for a few hours and most of the Mutants had eaten, followed by gathering in the small rec room on the main floor of the house. The room had a TV, which was currently hosting some Saturday morning cartoons, the younger students had gathered around. The older teens were playing card games, chatting and a rare few were studying for some test they had coming up in Applied Mechanics. Apply mechanics to what, Harry didn't know.
"Harry you can't keep living in those same clothes, we have to go shopping," Jean stated quite clearly. She had swept through the room, stopping before Harry and placing her hands on her hips. Harry had been gazing out the window, once again dressed in the same gray, nondescript scrubs as yesterday. Jean seemed to find this extremely offensive. Harry agreed that under normal circumstance people might think his clothes to be a bit smelly but he'd charmed them to be clean. Jean still seemed appalled. Harry had decided to brush it off as a girl thing.
"If you want," he said with a soft grin which didn't reach his eyes. He didn't particularly like taking money from these mutants. Taking lodging, food, these didn't bother him. But taking actual money. I made him feel like some sort of con man, nicking money that didn't belong to him. He blamed his morals on the Durselys. Not that they had ever bothered to teach him right from wrong, but they had beaten it into his head that money spent on him was money wasted. Sadly it made him rather honest.
"Oooh! You're going to the mall!" Kitty said excitedly. Jean rolled her eyes. She'd forgotten; never say the M-word in a school full of bored teenagers. Other ears seemed to perk up, so much so that Jean wondered if supersonic hearing had become a common mutation among this generation.
That was how Kitty, Rogue, Bobby, Pyro, Colossus, Syren, and a girl named Sam (oddly strong), managed to go with Harry and Jean to the Mall. Jean had enlisted Scott as an ally, and it was the red shaded mutant that was currently driving the van they all rode in.
Not long after the van parked, Kitty and Sam leapt to their feet and rushed into the building chatting loudly. Syren and Colossus did similarly, the red haired girl skipping excitedly beside her much larger escort. Rogue had exited with Bobby, Pyro trailing after them. Harry was left to follow Jean and Scott as he looked around at the muggle mall.
The Somers Shopping Center was located on the outskirts of the town of Lincolndale. It wasn't very large as malls went. A sporting goods store, a few clothing shops, one rather out of date electronics store as well as a book store. A few restaurants and coffee stands were situated in the north of the building, another popular attraction was the arcade found near the food court. All and all it suited the teenagers of Lincolndale quite well. The students at Mutant High were fond of it too. Not so much because the shops were interesting but the few entertainments it offered provided a chance at escape, a way to venture in the 'normal' world. Despite how much the safety of Mutant High appealed to them, it was still nice to have a little diversion.
Jean lead Harry expertly through the small crowd of muggles that filled the mall. Every once and a while she'd pause and ask Harry if he liked this store. Harry would look upward, and say,
"Yeah, looks fine," in an uninterested voice. He couldn't help it. He honestly didn't care.
Jean would then look at him sharply before going to another store, where the process would be repeated. Scott seemed to find the whole thing amusing, which Jean did not appreciate. Eventually Jean took the hint and lead Harry into a large department store. She seemed rather familiar with the place and quickly settled them all in the men's department.
"That's it, I wash my hands of you. Find your own clothes." She slumped in a chair, however as Harry moved into the racks of clothing he noticed her perk up and watch curiously.
Harry examined the area around him. He'd never actually chosen his own clothes from a muggle shop. He'd been drug along on a few occasions while Aunt Petunia tried to find clothes that would fit her precious Diddy Dinkums. Harry had been forced to endure many rants about how clothes merchants used such cheap material that tore (oddly enough always splitting the rear of Dudley's trousers) and that they really should carry larger children's sizes as the current sizes didn't provide for 'growing boys'. At the time Harry had wanted to comment that it wasn't really the manufacturer's fault, most boys grew upwards and not sideways but he had wisely kept silent.
Harry could almost hear his Aunt's voice echoing over the clothes racks now. He smiled as he chose a pair of jeans. She'd have thrown a fit if she knew he was buying new clothes with some freak's money.
Harry meandered through the rows, choosing himself two pairs of jeans, three shirts in varying shades, the usual socks and grundies, and a pair of pajamas similar to the kind he had worn in Gryffindor. Feeling somewhat guilty, and terribly extravagant, Harry also found a pull-up sweatshirt, rather like the one Bobby had lent him the other night.
Harry hesitantly brought his purchases back to Jean and Scott who had been waiting. By the grim expression Scott wore and the pale lavender shirt Jean was holding, Harry could only assume what the older man had been forced to endure in his absence.
"I'm just saying you need to vary your color scheme more...oh, Harry, you were quick, find everything?" Jean smiled at him as he approached. Scott, in attempting a very dangerous slight of hand, tried switching the lavender shirt for a dark burgundy one.
Harry, feeling pity for his fellow male, did his best to distract her. "Yep, found everything I needed." He held up his selections.
Jean frowned. "That's all?" She stared at the pitifully few items with an unamused expression.
"Uh yeah?" Harry looked back at his choices, seemed good to him.
Jean grumbled to herself. "Just go, get out the pair of you. I'll just pick everything shall I." She grabbed Harry's items and stormed into the rows of clothing.
Harry looked somewhat concerned.
"Don't worry, she's been itching to take control from the get-go. She just doesn't want to admit it. Doctor Jean Grey is far too intellectual to enjoy shopping." Scott's voice became haughty before snorting and shaking his head. "That's a laugh. She's bought more clothes for people than anyone I've ever met." He patted the young man on the shoulder, yet the gesture didn't seem to rest any of Harry's concerns.
"No lavender!" Harry yelled to her.
Scott laughed. "Come on, let's go." He tugged Harry's arm.
"No pink either!" Harry added as he turned to leave. This evoked more laughter from the usually strait-laced mutant at his side.
Once having escaped the duty of shopping, Cyclops led Harry to a small coffee shop. It was one of the mutant's favorites, and his little escape when Jean embraced her desire for shopping. Even though the café was set in a mall, the owners had apparently tried to go for a more beatnik feel, leaving the walls a rough brick and the lights low. It was a popular place for people trying to be different. High schoolers with black lipstick, tattoos, vibrant hair, and the classic goatee and shades were a common sight. Cyclops's odd red glasses didn't even raise a single pieced eyebrow. If anything he looked almost too normal. That was the way the man liked it. Scott Summers wasn't ashamed of what he was, but even he had a part of his soul that longed for universal acceptance. He'd given up on the practicality of that dream many years ago, but that didn't stop him from enjoying pockets of it when he found it.
"What would you like?" Cyclops asked as he and Harry reached the counter.
"Oh...I don't have any...I'm fine," Harry stated swiftly.
"It's on me," the older man assured him.
"Well, a tea would be nice, if they have it," Harry asked, hiding the hesitation he felt. Once again he felt like a heel for taking these people's money. In a few days he'd be going home. Or at least to this world's wizarding world. He shouldn't be accepting their charity. They were helping him because they thought he was one of them, another mutant who had been persecuted by the government.
Harry sighed. The room smelled very good, thus Harry remained silent and accepted the tea that Cyclops offered.
The two moved to a seat, Harry silently stewing in guilt. I was just a bloody cup of tea. Harry really wished he could cut out the voice in his head that kept saying that he was lying prick.
"Don't worry about it Harry," Cyclops said warmly.
Harry looked up, "Uh worrying about what?"
"About taking some money from the school. Lots of mutants do, more than half show up with no way to pay for...well anything." Scott's reassurance did nothing to allay Harry's feeling of guilt. Still, as Harry took a sip of his tea, he vowed he'd pay them back. With this decision Harry felt much better and finally the tense feeling in his stomach uncoiled.
Perhaps his internal decision was more obvious than he'd have thought, as Scott nodded his head approvingly. "Lots of Mutants pay us back in the end. Some go out and get really good jobs, always manage to send a little back. I was in the same year as this one kid. He went out and started this company, makes millions. He gives a lot back, everyone's grateful for their years at Mutant High."
"You went to school here too?" Harry asked.
"Sure did, Jean, Storm and I were some of the Professor's earliest students. After we graduated, we all went out in the world and tried different things for awhile, Jean even went to medical school, but we all came back in the end. Wanted to help the next generation, and with so much anti-mutant sentiment today...well we need even more help," Scott's brow furrowed as he considered how much darker the world seemed. Mutant registration acts, Mutant experimentation, Mutant villains.
Scott shook his head. "Back then money was a little more tight. Not many other people could contribute, there was this rumor that the Professor and Magneto had won the deed to the house and the start up money by gambling, probably cheating."
Harry grinned at that. He imagined with the professor's mental affinity he would be an excellent poker player.
"Who is Magneto?" Harry asked, wondering how this mutant's skill would lend itself to gambling.
Scott shifted awkwardly and took a sip of his coffee. "Magneto is a mutant who helped the Professor found the school. He can manipulate metal by creating magnetic fields. However, he had very different ideas about role mutants should have in this world." Cyclops shifted his gaze to Harry and noticed that the young man was listening closely, a slight frown on his face.
"Go on," Harry said expectantly. He couldn't help the way his eyes narrowed as he took in Scott's uncomfortable stance. Obviously Magneto wasn't a popular subject.
Scott sipped his coffee. It was a little strange Harry hadn't heard mention of Magneto. Still he wasn't about to brush the young man off, better not to hear about Magneto from the wrong sources.
"He feels that a war is brewing between men and mutants, perhaps that's why he and his associates have tried to hit a first strike against humankind. The Liberty Island incident." Scott gestured at the reference and Harry quickly nodded with a knowing look. He wished he had some sort of clue as to what he was agreeing to know.
Scott thankfully didn't pick up on Harry's inner confusion. "That is one of the reasons that the Professor created the X-men, not only to protect us against humans but to protect humans from Magneto and others like him." Scott took another sip of his coffee. His mind unwillingly falling into speculation about things to come.
Scott knew that there were people in this world who hated him, merely for how he was born. Perhaps he had been living with the Professor for too long, or maybe it was his own nature, but he never doubted that protecting mankind was the right thing to do. He couldn't quite understand how Magneto thought he was helping mutants, his actions against humanity were only driving more of a wedge between the two groups. It would doubtlessly hurt mutants more in the long run. And that was something that Cyclops would not allow. He would never willingly let his fellow mutants be hurt by anyone. Perhaps that was the reason, more than anything, that had lead him to return to Xavier's school and adopt the role of teacher and fighter.
But the young teacher wasn't foolish. His shaded eyes rested on the equally silent and thoughtful young man before him. Cyclops knew his life had been easier as the Professor had found him early on. He was a mutant, so his life hadn't been great, but he had known worse childhoods. Indeed, quite a few students in the school had suffered under the mistreatment of humans. Judging by Jean's silence the previous evening and the somewhat maternal interest she had taken in the young man, Scott could guess that Harry had been one such case. For young people who had been wronged by society, Magneto's offer was enticing. Thankfully the man was locked away in a plastic prison at the moment. Yet the Professor wasn't sure that even that would contain him for long. With this in mind, Scott feared it wouldn't be long before the man would approach the Professor's pupils, offering them the chance for vengeance that some craved. Would Harry be one such young man?
Harry was unaware of Scott's evaluating eye. The story Cyclops had spun had been all too familiar. Harry knew about another school, founded by four wizards. One had left, filled with the idea that humans could not be trusted. That decision had created centuries of turmoil. Harry had witnessed the violence such disagreements could have firsthand. His frown deepened. This certainly wasn't what he had signed up for. He'd left his world to leave just this sort of struggle behind, find somewhere quiet. He had no desire to find his way into another war about protecting muggles. The government being curious about mutants was one thing, fighting other people with powers could make things messy. Harry was done with messy.
Harry fought the temptation to just apparate away from Scott and these other mutants. He could just pop away, turn his back on the whole situation. It wasn't his war. These weren't even his people. He had no obligations to stay and help them. These thoughts calmed his jumpy nerves for a moment.
Also, no one was asking him for help. As far as they were concerned he was just another broken teenager that they had rescued. They couldn't stop him from leaving, they didn't even know that he could leave whenever he wanted. And he certainly wasn't these peoples' 'Chosen One'. Harry let these logical thoughts move across his conscious mind, allowing them to ease his anxiety.
The situation didn't have to change. The school seemed to be perfectly safe for the moment. He could still stay there, build up his strength, learn more about the mutant world, then find his way home to the magical world. Nothing had to change, this mutant war was just another variable in an already confusing world. Why should his plans change?
Having reached this decision, Harry took another sip of his tea. It had grown cold.
"What time is it?" Harry asked, glad that his voice sounded normal.
"Little after twelve, we should go meet up with the others in the food court." Scott got up and tossed his own cup in the garbage, Harry did likewise.
It wasn't difficult to find their group. Pryo and Kitty were fighting again. Those two seemed unable to sit together for more than a minute before squabbling about something. Kitty's friend Sam managed to pry the two apart quite easily.
"We're in a public place, people are staring," the blonde said firmly. This seemed to mollify Kitty who blushed and began examining her plate. Pyro wasn't quite so deterred. He merely winked at a group of girls nearby, who giggled and began examining their own plates.
"You find whatever it was you all needed to come for," Scott asked, addressing the lot of them.
Heads nodded.
"Have you seen Dr. Grey," he asked them.
"Umm..." Kitty looked up, "Last time I saw her she was lugging quite a few shopping bags towards the bookstore."
Scott sighed. Deciding it was better to find her now and avert any post-shopping rage, he left to find his significant other.
"Get yourself some lunch," Cyclops said to Harry, handing the boy some money before leaving. "And I'd get a lot if I were you, Jean will only force you to get more if she isn't happy."
Harry rolled his eyes before finding a restaurant that sold sandwiches and chips. He quickly purchased himself a lunch and settled among the other teenagers. Many of who were examining any purchases they had acquired.
"They had these cute little tops for sale, so I bought one. Rogue you should buy one too!" urged Kitty.
Rogue examined the purple shirt with a sparkly cat on it. She cringed.
"Uh, maybe another time," she said kindly. Bobby grinned at her and she glared at him.
"I also went to the bookstore, the book I ordered finally came in." Kitty then lifted another bag, clutching it to her chest in an adoring way.
Harry coughed, managing to swallow the chunk of sandwich that had lodged in his throat. He really hadn't pictured the fluffy Kitty, who reminded him vividly of Lavender, as the sort of girl who anxiously awaited books. Once again his curiosity got the better of him.
"Eh, what sort of book is it?"
The others at the table turned in his direction and glared. Kitty, however seemed overjoyed that someone was interested in her purchase.
"It's the new book by Dr. Wallace Fisher, based on the paper he wrote for Science Minds. He develops his theory on Quantum Physics, and outlines possible uses for some of his more precise calculations. When I read his paper I thought it was well thought out but needed to be developed more," Kitty's bubbly voice made the whole statement seem rather surreal.
"Eh...Quantum Physics?"
More glares, accompanied by a few groans.
"Oh it's the most wonderful field of study. You see formal Newtonian Physics can only calculate large bodies of data, like in larger scaled energy transformations, or the distances of planets and things like that. Quantum physics delves into a smaller scale, calculating things on a subatomic level after the point where the common laws of physics begin to deteriorate– " Kitty paused and seemed to note Harry's confused expression.
"Uh...I haven't been to school since I was eleven," Harry explained while shaking the fuzz from his head.
Kitty's eyes opened wide. "Oh. Well let me see if I can simplify it. It calculates things on a small scale, like electrons, protons, and neutrons. Quantum physics even describes the particles which make these particles! It predicts behavior, it really is a form of organized chaos– "
"Kitty," Rogue said interrupting the flow of progressively more confusing thought. "Uh, what store did you get that shirt again?" Rogue asked.
"Oh do you want one after all! It's at a new store next to the jewelry store. If you go get one I'll go with you. They had some cute little lip glosses, and I think I want that cotton candy one."
Harry sighed and glanced at Pryo.
"Scary as hell isn't it," commented the young mutant.
Harry nodded.
Scott had managed to locate Jean and bring her to the food court for lunch. The teenagers had nearly finished and most were drifting from the tables to the arcade. Pyro and Bobby were constantly competing for the high score in one fighting game. This week Pyro had the high spot and Bobby was spending quite a few quarters to try and alter that. Rogue and Syren were racing each other in some car game. It looked rather fun, and by the skill Harry observed, staying on the road wasn't the main object of the game. Colossus was eating another hamburger while Kitty and Sam were talking, the large boy didn't seem to be paying much attention to their conversation by the look of it.
Harry was observing all this. While his muggle education was lacking, so was his knowledge of muggle culture. After the age of eleven, the only exposure Harry had to muggle things was from what he observed at the Durselys. They never took him anywhere, preferring to lock him in his room when they went out. Harry had never minded because he'd been happy to leave the muggle world behind, he had the magical world. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd missed out on some things. The idea of having the best of both worlds was a phrase that had increased meaning for a dimension leaping Harry Potter.
After some complaining Jean and Scott managed to get all the students back in the van. Most of them hadn't particularly wanted to stay as they were quite finished shopping, but still appearances had to be kept up. Harry had followed the others, glancing in the bags Jean had given him. He admitted that he opened the first one with some hesitation. He bloody well wasn't going to be wandering around for the next few days dressed like some flowering fool. He didn't care if they did discover a 'new mutation' he'd charm any lavender clothes to a more suitable shade. Thankfully, it didn't seem to be an issue. Jean had obviously used three shirts he had chosen as a template. Thus providing him with a wardrobe mostly in colors of green, gray, blue, black and a dark gryffindor red. Harry would never need all these clothes, but he was still pleased with the result. He'd politely forget about the yellow button-down shirt she'd thrown in. Perhaps Bobby would wear it.
Still Harry wasn't able to keep his new clothes secret for long, the girls and a few of the boys quickly tugged them out of their sacks and began assessing them on some level of 'coolness' that Harry was unfamiliar with. Still, when in Rome.
Scott glanced at the teens in the backseat. They were all busy making Harry feel at home. A mixture of complimenting and teasing which you could see made the young man feel accepted. It was a well-rehearsed attitude, but not an insincere one. Many of these children could remember their own first days. New students were, after all, a rather common occurrence. And not all coming from the best of circumstances. Thus, unlike the social competitiveness that most high schools housed, Mutant High adopted a more caring approach. It was already putting the somewhat quiet Harry at ease.
"He seems to be fitting in well," Jean said approvingly. Her voice was quiet enough not to draw attention from the students in the back.
"Yeah. Little quiet I suppose, but rooming with Bobby and Pyro they are bound to break him of that habit. Probably too soon." Scott's comment made Jean purse her lips.
There was something about Harry. He inspired her concern and pity, but another part of her brain seemed to pick up on little inconsistencies. There was also an odd sense of confidence about the boy, which based on her care of abused children and teenagers didn't quite match the scars he bore. He seemed to refuse to cower before any sense of power, alright perhaps that made sense, but it was the attitude with which he did it. Not cocky or rebellious. She'd seen her share of young men bent on taking on the world. Harry wasn't like that. He walked as if he had already taken on the world, and was now quite content to live quietly. It was an old man's attitude, strange on Harry's young face. If that made any sense. Yes he was certainly a mystery, and one she knew the Professor wanted to solve.
"I told him about Magneto. I was a little surprised that he hadn't already heard about him. Because of so many foreign dignitaries at Liberty Island the news spread throughout the world...sadly along with the message that 'dangerous mutants were plotting against world leaders' or some other pack of lies." Scott's voice leaked frustration. Jean was used to his somewhat guarded tone and could easily interpret.
"What did he say about him?" she asked curiously. They knew so little about this young man.
"Not much...just got really quiet." Their eyes met for a moment, each sharing a look of guarded concern.
Harry Potter was mystery. Sadly they didn't live in a time when mysteries could be left alone.
The day of shopping had passed. Once again Harry found himself amused and soothed by the comfort he was finding here at Mutant High. He wouldn't know it, but he was reacting in a way that muggle psychologist might link to a theory on the hierarchy of need. Being cut off from even the most basic necessities had forced Harry to view the world in a little different way. In the past, it might have been a good day if he spent time with his friends, or perhaps won some sort of quidditch game. Now a good day was one where he had enough food to eat. So, despite all the issues he'd met, most of Harry's days had been good days. It's amazing how changing your expectations can change your perspective. But perhaps, just perhaps, he was slipping out of his survivalist mentality. He wasn't certain yet. Simply the fact that he had realized this aspect of his recent actions was encouraging.
So when he went to sleep that night he had his worries, like everyone does. But he felt rather content. He was filled with this odd thought that perhaps things would work out better this time. That this world, despite its many dangers, would be a more welcoming peaceful world. It was hard not think this way after spending a day with people who seemed to care about him being there, spending time with people who, oddly enough, accepted him.
No too far into the future, he would realize what an idiot he was. But he didn't know that, and so he fell asleep quite easily.
Later, Harry wouldn't be able to pinpoint what had woken him from his sleep. He didn't remember his dreams anymore. He'd heard once that the mind will do whatever it can to protect its host, and perhaps Harry had suffered through enough terrible dreams. He didn't dream. So it wasn't a nightmare that woke him.
Something woke him. He sat up in bed and a spell was out his lips before he could even see properly.
"Stupefy," the stunning spell caused the room to flash red for a moment. The harsh light highlighting the two tall men poised at the room's entrance. Harry's hands flashed another red spell and in a show of amazing coordination both figures dropped to the floor at the same time. Harry ignored them and jumped to his feet. He flipped the light switch near the door and stared down at the men he had stunned.
He half expected it to be Bobby and Pyro, or maybe even Wolverine. This seemed like a classic case of overreaction. One too many a 'Constant Vigilance' pounded into his head.
He should have known better. Ol' Mad-Eye had never been wrong yet. Laying at Harry's feet were two men wearing an odd collection of muggle battle gear. They were dressed in black with think chest plates and commando boots. Straps crisscrossed their chests, likely holding spare ammunition for the machine guns still clutched in their hands. Harry kicked the weapons away. They were also wearing some shiny helmets, made of metal that looked rather futuristic.
"What's goin' on," Pyro grumbled. The Mutant squinted at the light blaring down. Bobby stirred in the other bed.
"Harry?" the ice mutant asked. Bobby's blue eyes widened when he took in the scene before him. Harry stood over two strange men, his green eyes gazing back with an alertness Bobby hadn't seen before.
"Woah!" Pyro said, he fumbled under his pillow, withdrawing his lighter. He fiddled with it for a moment and soon clutched a fireball. He pointed it at the two men, a harsh look covering his features. "How'd they get in here?" he asked.
"I doubt they're alone," Harry commented.
Bobby's eyes bugged. "Rogue, and the others...we've got to..." Iceman floundered for the words to express what they needed to do. The professor never wanted the students involved with anything dangerous, he left that up to the X-men. Bobby listened, hoping for sounds of battle. All was quiet.
"Let's go," Harry instructed. He flipped off the light as he left, both boys following behind him. Pyro hadn't extinguished the fireball and it cast an odd flickering light as the boys walked along the hallway.
"What did you grab that for?" Bobby asked in a hushed voice. He glared at Pyro who had picked up one of the machine guns and was looking at it, he used his free hand to try and grip the gun his finger near the trigger.
"What do you think I grabbed it for?" argued Pyro.
"That's just gonna cause more trouble," Bobby warned gravely.
"They got guns, we got guns. Seems fair to me." Pyro moved past his friend and stood beside Harry, raising his lit hand aloft to let the light travel further. Harry ignored the gun, Pyro had a point. Hopefully they wouldn't need to fire any shots. Particularly as he doubted any of them know how to use it, better have shield charms ready. Come to think of that, they probably didn't work against muggle guns.
As they moved, ducking their heads into each room as they past, all of them were empty. Seeing as their room was the last in that corridor, Harry wasn't particularly surprised.
"Shh..." Harry shushed them as they neared the junction with the girl's dorms. Heavy footfalls were audible. Harry and the boys ducked into an empty room, Pyro quickly dousing the fireball, leaving them in darkness. They watched as two men, dressed in similar army gear, moved down the hall. A couple girls were huddled between them. Harry didn't recognize either. They sniffled nervously, Harry realized why when he spotted a third soldier carrying the small body of a girl with vivid green hair.
"Greeny," Bobby said softly, his voice a painful hush. "Is she...?"
Harry shook his head. "She's still breathing," he claimed. Bobby heaved a sigh of relief when he noted the steady rise and fall of the girl's chest.
"They got Till and Micro too. They can't fight back..." Pryo growled. He bit his lip and his hand holding the machine gun raised slowly.
"Not yet," Harry instructed. He watched the three girls carefully, they couldn't be older than fourteen and based on Pyro's words, they didn't have the sort of powers that were of the offensive verity. If they attacked now, those soldiers would open fire, likely killing the two girls.
Also where were the others? The soldiers seemed to be taking the girls somewhere.
"Let's follow them," Harry instructed.
"Follow, what the hell, I say we stop them now!" Pyro said a little louder than was safe.
Harry grabbed the collar of the boy's t-shirt and tugged hard. "Shut it. They'll kill them if we spook them now. They must be collecting them all. Bad guy tactic 101. Get everybody together, get them scared, threaten people and try and get what you want."
"How do you know they want something?" Bobby asked. Pyro was still glaring at Harry but Bobby looked thoughtful.
"Because they didn't kill us all right away," Harry said quietly, looking down.
The two boys shifted uncomfortably.
"Let's go," Bobby said. The three moved as slowly and as quietly as possible. Soon they lost sight of the soldiers and instead continued in the general direction they had headed in. Everyone was quiet, their eyes and ears actively searching for a sign of anyone else.
Suddenly a piercing scream, more like the yell of a banshee than a human, ripped through the air. The three teenagers clapped their hands to their ears, trying to block the noise that was slowly wearing at their eardrums. A string of gunfire burst out, and the scream was cut short. Harry took a deep breath. They had all wanted the noise to stop but now a sort of terror entered their chests at the sound of the unnatural silence.
"That was Syren," Bobby said softly.
"Sounded like it was from the entrance hall," Pyro replied quickly, his face a little paler.
There was no discussion as the three boys broke into a run, their bare feet slapping against the wood floor as they ran. Harry was only a step behind as the boys lead the way. However, soon Harry didn't need the guides. A light shone up ahead, the only light in the old mansion so far. The trio skidded to a halt, Harry holding out his hands to stop them from going any closer. Hesitantly the wizard peeked around a corner.
The entrance hall was a rather grand looking room. Harry imagined the mansion must once have been some fine home, meant to impress the wealthy. The long hallway was wide and paneled with rich wood. The hall ran fifteen meters before widening before two sets of stairs. The stairs lead upwards, meeting at a landing that overlooked the hall below. The landing itself connected to two corridors, of which Harry, Pyro and Bobby were hiding in the shadows from the left.
Pressed against the wall of the corridor, the two mutants were almost invisible. Harry's face popped into view a moment, staring out only to quickly duck back. It was impossible to see down into the hall from their current position. But Harry could easily hear hushed voices and the occasional stomp of a military issue boot. It was safe to say that they had found the others, as well as a battalion of soldiers. Harry's shadowed gaze also caught sight of another soldier, stationed as a lookout on the stairs across from them. The man was in a perfect position to see them if they approached, however for the moment at least the guard seemed preoccupied with whatever was happening below.
Midway between the landing was a couch that was leaning against the railing. Harry's eyes flickered to the guard again before going down on his knees and skidding behind the couch.
Harry took a breath and looked downward into the entrance hall proper. Two thumps beside him alerted him of the other two mutants' presence. Harry quirked his head back and shot them a hard look.
"He wasn't lookin," explained Pyro in a hushed voice. Harry said nothing, only hoping they were right.
The three squirmed a bit, silently positioning themselves in a way that they could see what was happening below. They had frozen for a moment when the guard on the stairway moved. No one breathed while the man climbed the stairs. Thankfully the guard seemed to be looking for something in the hallway on the other side of the landing. The boys breathed a sigh of relief when the soldier disappeared from sight and into the shadows. Anywhere away from them was fine.
Harry finally managed to take in the scene below him.
It wasn't pretty. In one corner were a few limp bodies of students, Harry hoped that the guards standing over them were a sign that they were only unconscious. The professors had been isolated from the students. Professor Xavier had been pulled out from his chair and laid sprawled on the floor, looking up at what was occurring. Most of the students had been forced to their knees, their eyes wide in horror.
"No, please let me," Jean struggled against the soldiers. She was one of the few people on her feet but her powers were seemingly forgotten as she tried to get past them. One man knocked her back, she fell to the floor hard but immediately tried to get up, struggling to get towards the one form that wasn't being guarded.
Sprawled in the center of the hall, her red hair spread out like a fan, Syren struggled to breathe. There was a wet gasping sound that seemed terribly loud. The girl's pink nightgown had become saturated in blood. The soldiers seemed to be paying her little mind. One man seemed to have had enough with Jean's concern. With a quick jerk the man's riffle butted down, striking the doctor on the forehead, she dropped to the ground, her eyes blinking as she tried to remain conscious.
"Jean!" Cyclops yelled. He made to move but a glance from the professor kept him in place.
A low growl came from Pryo's throat but both boys seemed somewhat frozen by what they saw before them.
"Keep your people in check, Professor," a broad man, apparently the person in charge, announced to the crowd. "You've lost one mutant. I assure you, if we see anything the slightest off my men are fully sanctioned to fire into your students." The man's voice was oddly light as he said this, as if he hadn't just threatened to shoot a bunch of unarmed schoolchildren.
"No one needs to get hurt," the Professor placated. His voice was as calm as ever, even from his place on the ground.
"Yes, no one needs to get hurt," mocked the officer.
"Why isn't the Professor scrambling their brains?" demanded Pryo as loudly as he dared.
Bobby raised a finger to his lips, glaring at the fire controlling mutant. With a jerk of his head Iceman indicated the guard who had just reemerged from the hallways across from them. They froze as the man neared their hiding spot. Bobby gave Pyro another glare, as if this was all his fault. Harry was ready with a stunning spell, but he really hoped he wouldn't have to use it. That was all they needed, all those armed soldiers looking up here.
Still, there was something different about this man's walk. Harry, having spent the last few days amid British soldiers, had grown used to the stiff military movements...this man seemed to strut. Harry didn't know why but it made him pause as the man approached them. Pryo had readied a fireball.
"Put that out," the soldier grunted, an annoyed tone to his voice.
"Wolverine?" Harry asked.
The silver helmet nodded, "Who else would it be?" Logan shifted his gaze subtly, looking at the sight below before ducking down next to the others.
"Okay, now are we gonna go..." Pyro lifted the gun into a storm trooper posture.
Wolverine rolled his eyes and pulled the weapon from the younger man's grasp. "Where'd you get that?" the Canadian man asked. He looked at it closely in the dim light.
"We got it from them," Bobby explained as Pyro was busy frowning at Wolverine.
Wolverine did not seem to like what he saw. "The safeties been removed, this has a finger touch trigger. Not safe." Having said that Wolverine stuck the gun into the back of his trousers. Harry didn't think that was quite safe either, but remained silent.
Logan gazed below, he frowned. "Why isn't the Professor controlling their minds?" he asked.
"Yeah, just what I asked!" Pryo said through clenched teeth.
Harry shrugged, he had no idea. Bobby on the other hand narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
"Those helmets...Rogue mentioned that Magneto had a helmet that could keep the Professor out...do you think?" Bobby looked up and found Wolverine nodding his head.
"Now that I think about it, they do look like his headgear, and I think he still had it on when he was turned over to the police," Wolverine strained his memory trying to remember. He'd been rather out of it, suffering from blood loss and barely aware of boarding the X-jet let alone whether Magneto still had his unusual outfit on.
Harry now took notice of the soldier's helmets. He hadn't paid it much mind before. Sure it looked a little bizarre, but for all he knew it was standard issue in this world. The helmets themselves were made of a dark colored metal, indented in some sort of pattern. They weren't strapped on, but rather crammed around the skull almost like the armor of old.
Harry wondered, if all the helmets were removed at the same time...maybe the professor's mutated legillamancy might be able to stop the soldiers from firing. It seemed logical, so logical that Harry had to wonder why they hadn't already done it. Jean could move things with her mind after all. Harry looked down and noticed the red haired professor was still laying on her back, staring at the ceiling in a dazed way. Maybe they'd been waiting for the right moment, and with Jean out of it... Or maybe it was all hopeless and the Professor couldn't control so many minds and certainly not quickly enough to save lives.
Harry simply didn't know what was possible in this world. He was out of his depth. Yet as his eyes lingered on the scene below, he caught sight of Syren and the dark blood starting to stain the floor surrounding her. There had to be something he could do.
'Professor?' Harry asked focusing on his own pathetic attempts at legillamancy. Once again he was reminded he should have studied the mental arts more. Sometimes he thought he hadn't merely to spite Snape.
'Yes? Who is this?' The Professor's voice echoed in his mind. Harry shuddered at the strength surrounding it. There was a great deal of mental power behind that voice. Harry strengthened his mental walls as he concentrated on his reply.
'Doesn't matter now. If I can remove all the helmets, could you get them before others get hurt?' Harry put as much energy into that reply as he could manage. He still worried it might not make it completely. Harry usually managed better with eye-contact. He had been told his other attempts came out rather garbled. Actually his teacher at the time had called him a "sissy shited mental mage who didn't deserve to learn the mental arts". Yeah, Harry didn't like Legillamense.
The silence stretched on for a moment. Harry hoped that the Professor would trust him. His mental communicating abilities weren't steady enough for explanations. The only other choice would be to allow the mutant entrance into Harry's mind. Which wouldn't be happening. Harry hoped the man's concern for his students would waylay any paranoia about the aider.
'Yes' boomed a firm mental voice. Harry almost felt like covering his ears at the strength behind the voice even though he hadn't in actuality 'heard' it.
Harry glanced around him. Bobby and Pyro were biting their lips and gazing below them with obvious concern. Wolverine's eyes were flickering around the room, he seemed to be counting the men. Harry had a feeling that the mutant man was developing some strategy. Harry soon found himself mimicking Wolverine, his own green eyes accounting for the men below.
'NOW' Harry sent before whispering as spell. "Accio helmets" The summoning charm was invisible, and also, depending on the nearness of the object and the force behind the spell, allowed objects to move at the same time. Thus, once again, a simple summoning charm proved to be very useful. Harry watched with little remorse as the metal helmets were ripped from the solider's heads.
The men seemed to be startled for only a millisecond before their faces became slack. Their bodies stood limply, arms hanging at their sides.
Harry let out a low whistle of appreciation as he viewed the Professor's mutation in action. He doubted even someone as proficient at Legillamancy as Voldemort could duplicate what the Professor had managed to do. Harry once again realized that he didn't quite know what mutation was and what it was capable of.
It took a moment for the students below to realize that the threat had been neutralized. The professors had been a little quicker. Scott had already rushed to Jean's side and had gently raised her to a sitting position. Jean's eyes were closed and look of pain crossed her face, but she prodded Cyclops for a hand up. The male professor looked a little hesitant about it, but eventually helped Jean rise drunkenly to her feet. The red haired mutant staggered toward Syren, dropping to her knees beside the young girl.
Around the room other young mutants gathered themselves. A few had fetched the Professor's chair and he had reclaimed his ability for movement. Others had moved toward the unconscious muntants, shaking their fellow students as they tried to awaken them. Some of the younger students huddled together with tears of relief and fear. Some girls, likely Syren's friends or roommates stood statue like, tears dripping down their cheeks as they watched the young Irish mutant's struggle.
"Give me that," Jean snapped as she tugged loose a robe one of the girls was wearing. Jean hesitated only a moment before applying pressure to the wounds that must have spread across Syren's chest and abdomen.
Syren's voice stirred to life for a moment. She squealed painfully, her face crinkling in agony. Still despite the loud noise, there was a weakness in her voice that caused even more of the students to sob. The young mutant's voice lacked the power it had demonstrated only moments ago. When the noise stopped Syren's body went still.
A few of the other mutants sobbed louder, obviously thinking that Syren had died before their eyes. Still Harry continued to watch Jean as the young doctor continued to fight the flowing blood. Harry nodded knowing that Syren had only slipped into unconsciousness, a place where the pain could not reach her. The more he watched, however, the more Harry began to fear what he was seeing. Jean's white pajama pants soaked up the blood as she kneeled by the young girl, she applied pressure, barking orders to Cyclops about a medical bag, yet all the while the woman's eyes flickered dangerously. Her actions all seemed a second too slow, Harry recognized the doctor's own personal struggle to avoid sinking into oblivion. Harry knew it was only her determination to save Syren that kept her conscious.
"Jean?" Charles asked softly, rolling up beside her.
"Not now...I have to stop the bleeding...it must have punctured her lung...I...Professor the students shouldn't see this," Jean's frazzled voice emerged from her body but otherwise she paid no mind to anything else around her.
When Jean mentioned 'punctured lung' Harry's mind reeled. For a moment he was back in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Lying in his bed as Poppy puttered around, taking him to task for training 'so roughly' with Dumbledore's 'dangerous tutors'. Sword and knife fighting for agility had been the subject at the time. A slender man with thin scars had been his teacher, and the man thought that a few slices was a positive learning experience. Harry had gotten a little cocky, his attitude had been readjusted by a sword through the chest. Poppy had quickly repaired the damage but afterwards tormented him with endless lectures on how she'd run Hogwarts. Afterwards she'd taught him the spell used to repair his body, if only because he was so 'injury prone'.
Harry would later have wished he was the sort of person who thought things through. He would wish that he was sort of person who understood the need for secrecy and the perhaps more importantly the fact that sometimes people have to die for secrets to remain secret. But that simply wasn't Harry. He had never been the sort of man who could hold steady when someone else's life blood was being spilled. Not if he could save them.
Harry swung a leg over the railing.
"What are you doing?" Pryo enquired with a raised brow.
Harry didn't bother to answer as the other leg followed the first. He dropped down to the entryway. His bare feet smacked against the wood, causing the students near him to duck back in fear. Harry barely noticed, his knees bending on impact, his body springing forward to drop beside Jean.
"Harry?" Jean said in confusion and a little exasperation.
"Let me," Harry argued. He positioned himself over Syren, tugging the sodden robe off her body.
"No! Stop!" Jean moaned and tried to push Harry away, her hands grabbing the robe ready to resume pressure.
Harry tried to be polite as he continued elbowing her away. Harry paused for a moment to view the three holes in Syren's nightgown. He managed to feel some relief, oddly. He had expected more wounds. Still the blood continued to flow as he watched, but it only took him a moment to choose the wound in the center of the gruesome little formation. He wasn't certain if the spell would heal only one wound at a time, or all of them. He also wouldn't claim to be a master of healing magic.
As Harry's hands lay against the skin, the blood clung to his hand, but he could feel the eery feeling of more oozing forth. But he closed his eyes, he knew the charm and if nothing else, perhaps brute power would overcome his limitations. The last time he had released his power, all his power, it had been destructive enough to blow Voldemort to bits.
The pain of that night flickered in his mind. Voldemort standing over him, those self assured words of triumph, all the pain that seemed to have consumed him. The never ending pain his life had become. Something in him had broken. The magic had poured from his chest down his arm and into his hands. Brutal. Now, as Harry's palms pressed into Syren's wounded flesh, the same forced strummed through him. Something buried, but ready when he needed it. The magic was warm, hot even, as it coursed from him. Harry concentrated on that little lesson Madam Pomfrey had imparted, about healing deep wounds such as these.
Harry felt as if he poured himself into the slim Irish girl, his magic sliding through her body mending the broken bits that had been sliced open by the small chunks of metal. Destruction was, after all, a very simple thing to do. Repair, healing, these things were more difficult.
A small gasp startled Harry and woke him from the spell the powerful magic had cast on him. His eyes opened, only to meet a surprised pair of brown eyes. His fingers brushed across Syren's stomach, sliding across smooth skin where only moments ago ragged holes had been.
"Syren!" a voice said loudly. The small girl sat up slightly as her name was called. At the sign of movement everyone swarmed around the Irish girl. She flushed at the attention, Jean ordering her to lay back down and not strain her abdomen. Some other teenage girls, dropped to their knees, ignoring the blood on the floor, and gently latched onto their friend. Colossus managed to stumble over. He'd been knocked unconscious along with many of the older, stronger mutants. A dark bruise still marred his forehead, but he didn't seem to mind. He took a seat next to Syren and held her hand weakly.
"Hey," he whispered softly. His relief expressed more in his eyes than in his words.
Harry meanwhile did his best to scoot out of the way. He wouldn't deny that he had used a great deal of magic to save the young mutant. It hadn't been quite a purposeful as he'd have liked either. It just seemed like the magic took control. It might have been a little worrying, but at the moment Harry was more concerned about the way the floor kept tilting.
Harry rubbed his temples and closed his eyes as he tried to dispel the vertigo that had gripped him. Of all the times to be dizzy. He felt a strong compulsion to go to sleep, perhaps for a week. He currently cursed whoever had invented stairs, his new dorm room seemed impossibly far away. However, after some well placed footwork, Harry managed to stagger upward, his body leaning slightly to left as he stood in the entrance hall. Harry groaned as he suddenly took in the room at large.
A few students were looking at him curiously and thankfully, but it wasn't their inquisitive gazes that concerned him. Gathered in some sort of semicircle, the professors stared at him with wide demanding eyes. Professor Xavier, seated in his returned wheelchair, gazed at Harry with a penetrating look that would have done Dumbledore proud.
Cursing would have been a good option at this point. But Harry noted, with some glee, that the edges of his vision were growing steadily darker, his vison blurring. He welcomed the darkness, he'd much rather deal with this in the morning. Harry was barely aware of a firm pair of arms catching him as he slipped, happily, into unconsciousness.
A/N: Because some people have asked:
This cross is mainly playing off of the first movie, and may be including other characters from the comics. However, I may very well choose to portray them in any manner I see fit. Upsets you? Try and live with it. (In addition, while I know that Syren's name is spelled as 'Siryn', (or some people say siren, others say syrin its a bloody mess.) I decided to go with a different spelling. CosmosGravitation (a great help there by the way, thanks again.) pointed it out and I changed it but then changed it back. I like this better, much more like a name as opposed to an object. This spelling reminded me more of the mythical creature. And this is fanfiction, why can't I change it eh?)
In addition, this fic in not going to have any slash in it. Like slash? That's fine, there are plenty of fics out there for you too choose from.
In general terms of pairings, there really aren't going to be any that are serious. Harry's a virile young man, perhaps like some of you readers, so I'm sure he'll take his chances where he can get them. But I don't foresee any fluffy pairings that would make anyone spew. This story is more plot based.
And also curious why some people seem to be under the misapprehension that I'm not planning on continuing this fic? I have a fifty page outline, certainly not planning on posting a few chapters and calling it done. I won't set a finite deadline for updates because I do have other projects outside this, including a job, but I will be finishing this fic.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein