Harry Potter Universe, Hogwarts
Universal Time: November 26th, 1988
Time until Hun and Po souls are deemed suitable by the laws of the Harry Potter Universe to learn structured HP magic: July 31st, 1991
Harry’s Physical/Mental/Emotional Maturity: 13 years old
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He was back! Actually back!
His eyes widened suddenly as a thought struck him. He quickly raised one hand, both golden Life Flames and divine healing light refined from the mass of Faith in Harry Potter showering over his body. He did not want a repeat of what happened in the other world, who knew what diseases he might have picked? After ten seconds, he let the healing energies dissipate.
He'd have to do the same for Chrysa later.
Dumbledore caught his eye from the teacher's box, and Harry nodded. The azure flames around his feet intensified with a sharp crack as he guided himself toward the stands. He cut them off the moment he landed in front of the teachers.
Aunt Min rushed forward and wrapped him in a gentle hug before he could say anything. "Harry James Potter, where have you been? You should have visited before running off on that training trip with Nicolas and Perenelle!"
Harry blinked in surprise. Training trip?
He glanced at Dumbledore, who smiled with twinkling eyes.
"Indeed, my boy. The Flamels informed us you would be undertaking intensive training with them. I must admit, Nicolas has outdone himself this time! Flying at such a young age…"
Of course Grandpa Dumbledore would have come up with a reasonable explanation for his disappearance. He could practically see the old wizard's thought process… Harry vanishes mysteriously, better tell everyone he's training with the Flamels since they're his guardians anyway.
"Sorry about worrying everyone," Harry smiled sheepishly as Aunt Min finally released him. "I got a bit caught up in everything."
Dumbledore pulled out his wand and touched it to his throat. "Please continue with the match! I believe we were at 80-70 to Slytherin?"
The players hesitantly returned to their positions, occasionally glancing at Harry as if making sure he wouldn't vanish again.
Uncle Filius waved his hand excitedly. "Harry, that voice projection spell... it wasn't a charm, was it? No, it couldn’t have been. I did see sparks..." His eyes widened. "Were you manipulating lightning in some way to achieve that?"
Harry laughed softly. "I'll show you how it works later, Uncle Filius. The mathematics behind it are quite interesting."
"Mathematics?" Uncle Filius squeaked.
A tired sigh came from behind them. "And here I was enjoying the peace and quiet," Snape muttered, arms crossed over his chest.
Harry ignored the Potions Master completely, focusing instead on Aunt Min who was examining his clothing. Her fingers brushed against the fire-red fabric of his tunic.
"What an unusual style," she remarked. "I've never seen anything quite like it."
Harry felt sweat form on his brow. "Ah, well... you know how Perenelle can be with fashion..."
Aunt Min raised an eyebrow but didn't press further.
"Speaking of unusual things," Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I believe we should continue this discussion in my office. Shall we, Harry?"
Harry nodded, but he couldn’t resist looking at the stands one more time. It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for. Charlotte sat with Penny and Chiara in the Hufflepuff section, and he could spot Bill and Tonks sitting in the Gryffindor section. They all waved frantically when they spotted him looking.
He grinned and waved back, heart swelling with happiness at seeing them all again. Two months... it felt like years since he'd last seen their faces. So much had happened - learning firebending from the Sun Warriors, training Azula, fighting Wei-Ku in the Spirit World... and now here he was, back where it all began, surrounded by people who actually knew him as just Harry.
The thought made him want to laugh and cry at the same time. In the other world, he'd been this mysterious figure… the prodigy firebender, the lightning wielder, the wandering healer.
But here?
Here he was the kid who'd blown up the mountainside trying to deal with the Super Boggart. The one who'd helped Chiara deal with her monthly problem. The boy who spent many hours painting and helping Charlotte with the Cursed Vaults.
Dumbledore's hand settled gently on his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. "Ready, Harry?"
Harry nodded, and with a sharp crack, they vanished from the Quidditch pitch. They were squeezed through a tube that lasted only a moment before they reappeared in Dumbledore's office.
Fawkes trilled a greeting from his perch, and Harry smiled at the phoenix.
The sight of Dumbledore's office with all its whirring silver instruments made something in his chest loosen.
He was really home, wasn’t he?
"Now then," Dumbledore settled into his chair and gestured for Harry to take a seat. "Hopefully you can explain where you've actually been these past two months? Nicolas and Perenelle were quite distraught when you vanished."
Harry took a deep breath. "I ended up in another world. A place where people could bend the elements - fire, water, earth, and… air. There was this huge war going on, with the Fire Nation trying to conquer everything..."
He explained everything from meeting the Sun Warriors, learning from the dragons Ran and Shaw, his time with Princess Azula, consuming the fear spirit Wei-Ku, and his travels through the Earth Kingdom.
As he spoke, Dumbledore's eyebrows climbed higher and higher.
"To think that your firebending originated from that world," Dumbledore murmured when Harry finished. "And you developed these new skills there? The flying and that trick you did to spread your voice?"
Harry nodded. "The Jet Propulsion technique came from the Royal Palace of the Fire Nation. The Thunder Speech was something I created by calculating exactly how lightning could create sound waves in air."
"You calculated it?"
"Yeah, after I got that new offer that lets me do instant mathematical calculations. Watch-" Harry held up his hand, letting tiny arcs of electricity spark between his fingers. The sparks grew into delicate threads of lightning that crackled softly in the air. "Each arc has exactly the right voltage and amperage to heat the air in specific ways. When you combine multiple arcs..."
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The lightning threads sang a pure musical note that filled the office.
"Amazing," Dumbledore had a small smile on his face. "And you developed this entirely on your own?"
"Well, I did get another offer that helped," Harry admitted. "Something called the Sharingan."
His eyes shifted, irises turning blood-red with a single black tomoe mark spinning lazily around the pupil.
Dumbledore rocked back in his chair, gasping at the sight.
"These eyes enhance my perception drastically. I can see energy flows, predict movements, and even copy physical techniques I observe. When I combine it with my Inner Eye..." Harry grinned. "I can see seconds into the future and track how energy will flow in that predicted future. Makes developing new techniques much easier if I don’t have to expend my Chi for every little attempt."
"…and this requires no magic?" Dumbledore asked after taking a moment to calm himself.
"It uses a different energy called Chakra that I can knead from my Chi reserves. I only need a small amount to keep the eyes active." Harry deactivated the Sharingan, his eyes returning to their normal green. "Oh, and I learned how to control extreme heat too! Enough to calm an erupting volcano."
Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up. "A volcano?"
"Yeah, Fire Lord Ozai sent me on a mission with Princess Azula. Some rebels had stolen a secret scroll from their archives..." Harry's expression darkened. "They were planning to trigger a volcanic eruption that would have destroyed the entire capital city, killing tens of thousands at the very least. After I tracked them down and... dealt with them, I had to learn the technique quickly to stabilize the volcano."
"Dealt with them?" Dumbledore's voice was careful.
"They were planning mass murder, Grandpa. I executed all but one, interrogated the leader with Veritaserum to find the scroll's location, then killed her." Harry met Dumbledore's eyes steadily. "It was appropriate Justice. I’m well aware of how it may look, but there was nothing else I could’ve done. If it weren’t me… the Fire Nation would’ve killed them either way."
"You know, when I fought Wei-Ku, the Spirit of Fear..." Harry sighed. "He trapped me in illusions, tried to break me by showing my worst fears. Voldemort killing the Flamels. Being rejected and powerless in a cultivation world."
The memory made his hands clench. "But facing those fears helped me understand Justice better. I completed that aspect of my virtue cultivation."
Dumbledore remained silent, watching Harry with careful eyes.
"I know what you're thinking, Grandpa. That I'm too young to make these kinds of decisions." Harry gave him a bitter smile. "But Justice isn't about revenge or punishment anymore. I won't make people who insult me witness their worst fears... that was childish and wasn’t appropriate, I can see that now."
He took a deep breath. "But some actions demand certain consequences. The rebels who would've killed tens of thousands. A Fire Nation commander I found in the Earth Kingdom who..." Harry's face twisted in disgust. "Who had raped dozens of women and girls."
"You killed him too?" Dumbledore asked quietly.
"Yes." Harry met his grandfather's eyes without flinching. "And I'd do it again. Some people forfeit their right to live through their actions. The world is better without them in it."
"That's a heavy burden to bear, Harry. Deciding who lives and who dies."
"I know. But someone has to make those decisions." Harry's voice softened. "And I'd rather it be someone who actually cares about Justice than someone who just wants power."
Harry's green eyes darkened suddenly as a new offer appeared in his mind. He let out a short laugh.
[Comfy Chair – Touhou Project: Forbidden Hermit] – Costs 100CP, 100CP available to spend.
You have an extremely comfy armchair. While seated on the chair you can continue to move around as much as you normally could, perhaps by flying if you can fly, and is the perfect place to sit. You need not worry about getting tired or sore from sitting down too long – it’s simply too comfy for that.
"What is it?" Dumbledore asked.
"Just got offered a comfy chair that lets me keep moving around while sitting in it. Apparently it's so comfortable you never get tired or sore."
Harry shook his head. "Not worth spending my points on."
"Ah." Dumbledore leaned back in his own chair, fingers steepled. "Harry, about what you said regarding Justice and taking lives... I won't pretend I'm comfortable with an eight-year-old making such decisions."
"I look thirteen. I think and act on a level much older than even that." Harry pointed out.
"But you're not thirteen in truth, are you?" Dumbledore's blue eyes pierced him. "Physical and mental maturity aside, you're still a child who should be focused on learning and playing with friends. Not deciding who deserves to live or die."
"Maybe." Harry said quietly. "But I can't ignore what I see either. When I know someone is planning to murder many thousands, or when I find evidence of horrible crimes... I can't just walk away."
"There are other solutions besides death, Harry. Ways to stop evil without becoming an executioner."
"In a perfect world, maybe." Harry nodded. "But what would you suggest, Grandpa? Prison? They wouldn’t get that. Rehabilitation? For someone who enjoyed raping innocent women?"
"Everyone deserves a chance at redemption, Harry."
"And what about the people they hurt while we wait to see if they'll change?" Harry's voice rose slightly. "How many more victims should suffer while we hope the perpetrator might one day feel sorry?"
Dumbledore sighed. "It's not that simple-"
"No, it's not. Nothing about Justice is simple." Harry ran a hand through his hair. "But sometimes the clearest path is also the hardest one. Sometimes mercy to the guilty is cruelty to the innocent."
"And who decides where that line should be drawn?" Dumbledore's eyes were sad. "When does Justice become vengeance? When does protection become preemptive murder?"
"I don't know." Harry admitted.
"I really don't. But I do know that when I see someone planning mass murder or hurting innocent people... I can't just stand by and hope they'll change."
They sat in silence for a moment, both aware that neither had truly convinced the other.
"Well," Dumbledore finally broke the quiet. "I imagine Nicolas and Perenelle would be overjoyed to see you. They were quite worried when you vanished."
Harry's eyes lit up. "Can we go now? I need to tell them everything that happened!"
"Of course." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischievously. "I'm sure they'll be particularly interested in hearing about this Princess Azula you spent so much time with."
Harry felt his face heat up. "It wasn't like that! I was just teaching her proper firebending techniques!"
"Oh? You mentioned she kissed you before you left. And I’m sure you were very fond of her."
"That was-" Harry spluttered. "She was trying to manipulate me into staying! And how did you even know about that last part? I didn't tell you!"
"You didn't need to." Dumbledore chuckled. "Your expression when you mentioned her name said quite enough. Young love is always so obvious to those who have lived long enough to recognize it."
"I do NOT have feelings for Azula!" Harry crossed his arms. "She's... complicated. Brilliant but unstable. Dangerous. Besides, I'm technically eight!"
"And yet you look thirteen, think like someone older, and clearly made quite an impression on a princess." Dumbledore stood up, still smiling. "Shall we go? I'm sure Nicolas will have many questions about your... friendship with royalty."
Harry groaned. He was never going to hear the end of this, was he?
The teasing smile slipped from Dumbledore's face. Old arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a tight hug.
"We were so scared," Dumbledore whispered. "No way to find you, no way to help... just gone without a trace."
Harry melted into the embrace, burying his face in Dumbledore's robes. They smelled like lemon drops and old books - exactly the same as always. It made his eyes water.
"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled into the fabric. "I didn't mean to worry everyone."
"You're home now. That's what matters." Dumbledore's hand gently ruffled Harry's hair.
Harry sniffled. He'd missed this… the simple comfort of being held by someone who cared about him. He had been worried in the other world, that he’d possibly never be able to go back home…
The thought made him hug Dumbledore tighter.
After a long moment, they separated. Dumbledore's eyes were suspiciously bright behind his half-moon spectacles.
"Shall we go see Nicolas and Perenelle?" he asked softly. "I believe they've missed their little artist quite terribly."
Harry wiped his eyes and nodded, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Yeah. Let's go home."
Fawkes swooped down from his perch, landing on Dumbledore's shoulder. The phoenix trilled a happy note before extending his tail feathers.
In a flash of warm fire, they appeared in the familiar garden of the Flamel cottage. The sight of the flower beds Harry had helped plant made his heart squeeze with joy.
The back door burst open.
"Harry!" Perenelle rushed out, crossing the garden in seconds. She wrapped him in a fierce hug that knocked the breath from his lungs. "Oh, my sweet boy..."
Nicolas’s eyes were wide from where he stood in the doorway. He walked forward more slowly, but his hands trembled.
"You're really back," he whispered.
Harry reached out with one arm, keeping the other around Perenelle, and Nicolas joined the embrace. The three of them sank to their knees in the grass, holding each other tightly.
"I'm home," Harry's voice cracked. "I'm really home."
Perenelle pulled back just enough to cup his face in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Where were you sent? We were so worried..."
"It's quite the tale," Dumbledore spoke up from where he stood watching the reunion. "One involving dragons, princesses, and spirits."
Nicolas let out a watery laugh. "Of course it is. Our Harry never does anything by halves, does he?"
Harry smiled through his own tears. The garden smelled like home… herbs and flowers and the lingering scent of breakfast. Everything felt real and solid and right in a way nothing had since he'd left.