Harry frowned at the individual in front of him. Since coming to this universe, he had a strange feeling that someone was always keeping a tab on him. When he started the little repair job for the fates, he felt something like irritation of the person or persons watching him.

Finally, he had enough.

"Well, this place is different," Harry commented as he found himself in what was known as the Nexus of All Realities. Standing before him was a guy with quite a large head, but who was he to judge?

"Sorry to interrupt, but did you need something."

"Harry Potter, Master of Death."

"A pleasure, and you are?"

"I am the Watcher."

"I see," Harry nodded, getting a good look at where he ended up. "Interesting, I can see everything. So, what exactly do you do?"

"I watch the Multiverse; every single world, every story is my home."

"So, you're the ultimate voyeur?" Harry grinned, then sighed. The guy didn't appear to have a sense of humor, either. "Right, do you do anything but watch?"

"We Watchers have taken an oath not to interfere."

"Non-interference, interesting. Good luck with that. Anyway, I'll leave you to your fetishes then. Let me know if you need help when you feel the need to interfere with something."

With a wave, Harry vanished, leaving a disgruntled entity behind.

Jean Elaine Grey, also known as Marvel Girl and a member of the mutant superhero group X-men and a High School student, was confused.

The reason she had a horrendous headache since she woke up in her bed at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Her control which had been a bit off as of late had felt like it was fraying at the seams. However, as soon as she stepped into Bayfield High School, she felt at peace.

The telepath only half-listened to her friend's excited rumor about the substitute teacher for AP English as she made her way down the hall. Another one of her friends ran up, interrupting her thoughts.

"Did you hear about the substitute for Mrs. Adams?"

"I heard he looks exactly like that guy from that sparkly vampire movie."

Another voice from one of the football players she knew commented. "Naw, he looks like that actor from that World War One movie. You remember Jason, that Kipling story."

A second boy agreed as the group entered the classroom.

"Alright, settle down, have a seat. Mrs. Adams said she has assigned seating, so, at the quick, we have a lot to cover today."

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Jean had to admit the fit-looking twenty-something man dressed in dark colors with messy black hair was attractive but also seemed weirdly familiar. But the man's bright-green eyes almost made her stumble. She had seen them before.

"Harry?" she whispered, confused.

In her mind's eye, the teacher appeared much younger with a thin face, knobby knees, and a prominent scar on his forehead.

"My name is Mr. Potter, and I will be your substitute teacher for the next few days. Mrs. Adams had a family emergency but will return on Monday."

Jean rolled her eyes as the girl beside her swooned at her teacher's English accent.

"For the rest of the week, we will continue the discussion on Dante's Inferno, touch upon the saying "Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate" and work our way through Canto III, which will take us across the river Acheron and into Hell proper."

Everyone would admit that Mrs. Adam was an excellent teacher, although dry sometimes. However, Mr. Potter's class had been one of the best classes she had ever been in since entering High School.

Dante's already interesting story was brought to life as the teacher brought real-world antidotes that made it more interesting. Politics, religion, and the many scandals were brought up, and how they influenced the author. By the end of the class, they were looking forward to the journey into Hell itself.

"Miss Grey, will you stay back a moment," the teacher called out to her as he spent a few minutes fending off the girls from her class trying to get his attention.

"I enjoyed your lesson today, Mr. Potter."

"Why, thank you. I have always enjoyed teaching. Now, since you have a small break, if you don't mind me taking up a few minutes of it. I have a quick question for you. How are you feeling? Is your headache better?"

Jean backed up suddenly, nervous, but another side of her seemed to trust the person in front of her implicitly.

"I don't understand, sir."

"It's very simple. You have been leaking power all week, and unfortunately, you have not been taught how to shore it up properly. Worst case, you would have lobotomized the whole school or yourself."

Terrified at that possibility, Jean settled down and said, "I am not sure who you think I am, Mr. Potter. I am just a High School student."

"And I am just Harry," he said with a grin that turned serious. "But we both know that is not true."

Suddenly her moved and pressed his hand against her forehead. All the pain she had been feeling suddenly vanished as if it had never been. Her head and thoughts were clear for the first time in a long while.

"You're a very powerful telepath Mrs. Grey, and without proper training, you will have issues in the future. Of course, there is more to it than that, but let's work with what you know."

"I don't understand."

Harry gave her a warm smile. "I know, Jean, but trust me. It would be best if you sorted through your memories first. Then you will come to an understanding."

"Why are you helping me?" Jean asked, rubbing her temple.

"Let's say it's a favor to a friend or a thank you for saving my life. Right now, why doesn't it matter. What matters is that you get a handle on your powers so you do not harm yourself or others."

"Alright, Mr. Potter, I don't know why but I trust you. Do we know one another? You seem familiar."

"You're getting close," Harry said with a grin, passing her a thick book.

She gently rubbed her hand over its cover.

"A guide to Occlumency?"

"It's an ancient method of organizing your thoughts and protecting them from outside influence."

He then passed her a business card.

"Xavier reminds me of my old Headmaster. Not saying he isn't a good man, but he is not an expert on your particular issue. Ailidh, although she will insist you call her by another name, can help you. She is insistent that Doctor fellow will be her successor, but there is no reason she cannot help you. And I told her so."

"Can you not teach me?"

Harry laughed. "Well, I can't say our powers are diametrically opposed but let's say Ailidh is more in tune with yours. Once you have things sorted, we will sit down and talk."

"Alright, Harry," Jean said with a grin. "I look forward to that conversation."

The Master of Death chuckled as the young woman hurried off to her class when he whispered, "See you later, Fawkes."