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Chapter 2 - Chapter 2: My Mentor is the Sorcerer Supreme

Although Harry had always been a kind child, even after growing up in a miserable environment, witnessing the death of kind-hearted Mr. Ben awakened something dark in him. A surge of murderous intent burst from within, he wanted the man who killed Ben to pay.

He couldn't accept it. Not the death of someone who had shown him kindness. Not the idea that, because of him, a good man had lost his life.

That grief ignited a violent reaction. The magic inside him spiraled out of control, fueled by the raw desire for justice. No... not justice. Vengeance.

And because he was still a child, that desire was pure, undiluted by second thoughts. So when the moment came, Harry didn't hesitate. He killed the man who had taken Ben's life.

A thick, black fluid surged from Harry's body, drowning the villain in seconds. This new magic that had come with him into this world was strange, terrifying, and incomprehensibly powerful. Even without a single spell or magical symbol to guide it, it obeyed him.

Harry wanted the man to disappear, so he did.

The attacker's body began to crack, as if he were turning to stone, and crumbled to dust. Not a speck remained. No blood, no bones, no sign he'd ever existed.

The moment the man died, a heavy weight lifted from Harry's heart. The darkness inside him faded. Then he remembered.

"Mr. Ben!" he cried, spinning around and rushing to the man's side.

A woman with tear-streaked cheeks was kneeling beside Ben, clutching him tightly, her face frozen in shock.

Instinctively, Harry raised his hand and summoned the black fluid again, hoping, praying - it could heal Ben. But the moment the shadowy magic swirled forth, something strange happened.

A red maple leaf floated in front of his eyes... and stopped. Perfectly still.

Time had frozen.

Harry blinked. Around him, the world had gone still. A falling tear hung in mid-air. A gust of wind had kicked up a cloud of dust, but it hovered motionless. A panicked pedestrian's coat flapped frozen in place. Even the blood seeping from Ben's wounds stopped mid-drip.

Only Harry could move.

Then, behind him, sparks crackled.

He turned around to see a circle of golden fire bloom into existence. From it stepped a figure in yellow monk-like robes, her bald head glowing gently in the light. She appeared no older than thirty, yet somehow, she radiated the wisdom and warmth of someone far older. She felt like sunlight... but with the lingering sadness of sunset.

This was no ordinary woman. She was powerful, serene, and strangely comforting.

She looked at Harry with kind, knowing eyes and said, "You mustn't do that. Your magic has only just awakened. It's far too strong and unstable. If you try to heal him now, you'll only make it worse."

Harry stared up at her in awe. He'd dreamed of meeting a wizard for so long. But now that the moment had come, he didn't care about spells, or revenge on Dudley, or proving himself. There was only one thing in his heart.

"Please!" he begged, tears forming in his eyes. "Please save Mr. Ben! He doesn't deserve to die. He was kind to me. Please save him!"

The Ancient One studied the boy before her, then let out a quiet sigh of relief.

She had sensed his arrival the moment he appeared in this dimension. At first, she thought he was just another wayward soul. But when his power erupted, she realized the truth.

Even after nearly a thousand years of life, she had never seen magic like his. Pure, chaotic, terrifying.

Chaotic magic - the kind that could reshape reality itself.

And this boy wasn't borrowing it from another realm. It was his. Growing stronger by the second.

This meant Harry didn't need to pay a price to cast spells. He didn't just have the potential to learn magic. He could create entire dimensions of his own. A potential god.

She had expected someone with such power to be cold or cruel. But this boy... this boy was gentle. His earlier burst of dark energy wasn't malice. It was a loss of control. The magic responded to his emotions.

If her guess was right, then his power had no fixed nature. It changed with him, malleable, fluid, unpredictable.

Kneeling down, she placed a hand gently on his head.

"Don't worry," she said softly. "You have all the time you need to save him. And you won't need my help. That power is already yours."

The black fluid around Harry shimmered. The oily shadows receded, replaced by a delicate, silvery-gray mist.

He could feel it, control.

Harry looked at Ben's still form and whispered in his mind, again and again:

"Please heal. Please be okay. Please wake up."

The mist responded, flowing into Ben's wounds. The ragged bullet hole closed. The remaining fragments of metal were consumed by the magic. In moments, Ben's body was restored. Stronger than before.

Harry smiled, relief washing over him.

Then he collapsed into the Ancient One's arms.

She held him gently and looked at his young, exhausted face.

With his arrival, the timeline of this universe had shattered. Any future that included Harry was now unreadable. A complete blank.

But she was no longer afraid of what he might become. Instead, she was... hopeful.

Because in her arms lay the future greatest Sorcerer Supreme the world had ever known.

Her gaze drifted to the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. Her expression darkened.

"This won't do. My heir won't be tainted by a parasitic soul."

With a flick of her finger, she wiped it away. The scar faded into his skin, taking with it the lingering presence of Voldemort's fragment. Only a faint patch remained, invisible to the casual eye.

She smiled, satisfied, and gently placed Harry into the arms of the woman named May Parker.

Then, she stepped back into the golden portal and vanished.

Grow strong, little one. I can't wait to see the look on those dimension-walking gods when you put them in their place.

New York City, Midtown Tech High School – 12th Grade

Harry sat by the window, no glasses on, perfectly reading the board from across the room. His mind soaked up knowledge like a sponge. All thanks to the magic within him.

Seven years had passed since his powers awakened. He was now eighteen, on the verge of college.

Ever since being adopted by Uncle Ben and Aunt May, his chaotic magic had only grown more powerful. Even the Sorcerer Supreme herself praised the vast ocean of energy he carried within him.

Though the magic didn't bulk up his muscles directly, the constant magical nourishment had transformed him into a tall, fit teenager with an eight-pack and an easy smile.

His vision? Perfect. No need for glasses.

His intelligence? Off the charts. First in his year, every single term.

His looks? Let's just say the girls at Midtown Tech took notice.

Compared to the cupboard under the stairs, his life now felt like something out of a dream.

Dudley and the Dursleys? Ancient history.

He twirled a pen between his fingers, the sleek motion endlessly fluid. The pen danced across his thumb for over ten minutes, never slowing. It was more than a party trick. It was training.

His mentor had taught him that although he held unimaginable magic, controlling it was the real challenge. Power without discipline was a disaster waiting to happen.

This pen-spinning? It was part of his daily routine to hone that control.

From his right came a voice. "That's incredible. No matter how long I watch, I can't spot the trick."

He turned and met the curious blue eyes of Gwen Stacy, his classmate and desk partner. Long blonde hair, sharp mind, first-class sass, she was ranked third in the grade.

Second place? That went to Peter Parker, Harry's younger brother (by adoption). The boy who always had a camera in his bag and a quip on his tongue.

Peter was actually Uncle Ben's biological nephew, but that had never changed how their family worked. Uncle Ben never played favorites. He wasn't that kind of man.

Harry smiled at Gwen. "Of course it's magic. You didn't think it was a superpower, did you?"

She gave a mischievous grin. "Well, who knows? Maybe superpowers really do exist."

Riiiiing!

The school bell interrupted their banter. Gwen stood, gathering her things. "Hey, Harry. Want to grab lunch together? I still owe you for taking me to the nurse last week."

He looked apologetic, throwing his hands up. "Sorry, Gwen. Still on the clock. You know me, part-time job."

Gwen tilted her head. "Let me guess, stocking shelves at a grocery store?"

Harry chuckled. "Something like that."

What he really meant was this: he was heading to the Sanctum Sanctorum. Another lesson with the Sorcerer Supreme.

Some after-school job, right?

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