Chapter 4: The King's Arrival
The sky over the Black Lake shimmered under the twilight hue of the setting sun. First-year students huddled nervously in boats as Hagrid guided them across the water. The castle loomed above them, ancient and awe-inspiring, lit by golden torches and the glowing moon.
But before the boats reached the shore, a spiraling vortex of eldritch magic split the air on the path before the castle gates. The very air seemed to hum with anticipation, rippling like water struck by a stone. A ring of runes circled the opening space, thrumming with arcane power and light not born of this world.
With a low hum, the portal opened, folding reality like paper. From it stepped Harrison Strange Potter, clad in his perfectly tailored Hogwarts uniform bearing the Potter crest stitched in silver and red. The cloak flowing behind him was lined with starlight, his boots echoing lightly against the ancient stone path as he took confident steps forward.
His mismatched eyes—one glowing sapphire, the other deep amethyst—scanned the castle as if it were an old friend. The wind played through his dark hair, and his very presence bent shadows toward him in reverence. Magic flowed from him like a second skin, ancient and foreign, as if the boy had walked straight out of a myth.
In his hand appeared a staff of blackthorn and starlight, topped with a silver glyph suspended in motion, pulsing with Chaos Magic and cosmic understanding.
"Time to make an impression," Harrison murmured.
As the boats docked and the first-years looked up from the lake, gasps and hushed whispers followed the boy who had not come by boat but through the fabric of space itself.
"Did you see that?"
"He just... stepped out of nowhere!"
"Is he a teacher? He looks older..."
The teachers at the castle gates stared in stunned silence. Professor McGonagall, uncharacteristically wide-eyed, stepped forward.
"Mr. Potter, I presume."
Harrison inclined his head with regal calm. "Harrison Strange Potter. Heir of House Potter."
"You're early," she said, eyeing the portal still closing behind him.
"I'm never early, Professor. Merely punctual to a different timeline."
McGonagall blinked. "Indeed. Well, follow me. The Sorting will begin shortly."
The other first-years gathered around, curious and wary. Harry, standing beside Neville, looked at Harrison with a mixture of awe and familial comfort. The other students parted instinctively, as if knowing this newcomer was something more.
---
The Sorting
The Great Hall was abuzz with curiosity. Whispers followed Harrison as he strode through the ancient chamber, each step echoing with assurance. The enchanted ceiling thundered lightly with clouds mirroring the darkening sky.
"Potter, Harrison Strange."
He moved to the Sorting Hat with grace and took a seat as if claiming a throne. The Hat had barely touched his hair when it gave a sharp jolt.
"Oh, well now... what do we have here?"
A conversation began in his mind, quicker and sharper than most.
"You're not like the others. So many lives... chaos magic? Eldritch? A Champion of Chaos herself?"
"Gryffindor," Harrison thought firmly.
"Why not Ravenclaw? Or Slytherin? You have cunning, brilliance, legacy..."
"Because I was born to lead lions."
The Hat chuckled. "Very well, then... better be... GRYFFINDOR!"
The Gryffindor table erupted in applause. Fred and George Weasley leapt up in glee.
"That was epic!"
"You just made the best entrance in Hogwarts history!"
Harrison joined them, accepting handshakes and nods as if it were all perfectly normal.
"Name's Fred," said one.
"And I'm George," said the other.
"We're the Weasley twins. This is Lee."
"Lee Jordan. Future Quidditch commentator. You?"
"Harrison Potter. Keeper of secrets, wielder of Egyptian and Chaos Magic. Also your new friend."
Fred clapped. "You're going to fit right in."
George leaned forward. "Egyptian magic? As in, pyramids, gods, and curses?"
"Exactly that."
Harrison opened his palm. A golden flame surged upward, forming a glowing eye of Horus, before transforming into a cobra made of shifting hieroglyphs. It hissed softly before dissolving into a wisp of sand.
Lee gaped. "You have to teach us that."
"After classes. I'm starting an Advanced Spellcraft Club. You three are in."
---
The Feast
Dishes appeared on golden plates, and the first-years began devouring food in excitement. Harrison, however, remained composed, sipping his goblet with practiced grace. He observed the professors.
Dumbledore sat at the center, eyes twinkling—but not fooling Harrison. He knew the Headmaster was calculating.
"He already suspects I've interfered with the prophecy," Harrison thought. "Let him."
Snape's dark gaze flicked toward him once, unreadable.
"Interesting. He knows more than he lets on. He's not just a villain in this life."
He turned his attention back to the Gryffindor table.
"So, Harrison," Fred asked through a mouthful of treacle tart, "any cool Egyptian weapons to show off?"
Harrison smirked. With a subtle spell, his four ancient weapons appeared on the table for a brief moment—invisible to teachers.
Anaklusmos, the celestial bronze sword. Jason's imperial gladius. Nico's Stygian iron blade. Carter's Khopesh.
"Each from a different life. Each tied to a different pantheon. And all mine."
Lee whistled. "Are you sure you're not a god?"
"No," Harrison said with a wink, "but I was raised by one."
---
A Late-Night Walk
After the feast, when the other students had retired to the Gryffindor common room, Harrison remained in the shadows of the tower, watching the sky.
He spoke softly to the stars. "Lady Chaos, tonight begins the shaping of fate. Watch over Harry. And grant me wisdom."
From the clouds above, a flicker of starlight responded. A whisper rode the wind: "Conquer. Illuminate. Protect."
He returned inside, where the Weasley twins were setting off harmless smoke bombs.
"There he is!" George said. "Come on, King of Chaos. Let's plan tomorrow's prank."
Harrison grinned, summoning his staff.
"Let me show you a spell from the First Nome..."